#sub!michael jackson

Michael was absolutely buzzing with excitement today. This evening, he’d be sleeping over at his girlfriend’s house for the very first time. The best part? The two of you would be completely alone.

He honestly didn’t know why he was so excited about the alone aspect of it all, though. It’s not like he was brave enough to do anything more than hold your hand.

The two of you had fooled around before, you mostly taking charge, but his brain got so fuzzy around you. Any sense of self or right and wrong would go out the window as soon as he smelled your honey glaze scented lipgloss.

He’d spent the day driving around and shopping with his brother Jermaine, making sure to pick up things you’d mentioned liking the last time the two of you browsed through retail catalogues. The fuzzy white comforter you imagined sprawled at the end of your bed, the cute pajama set he couldn’t wait to see you in, and the stunning golden charm bracelet from your favorite jewelry store, were all carefully strewn across Jermaine’s backseat, a cute enveloped note written to accompany them sitting on top of the pile.

“Mike, this girl’s got you whipped! You droppin’ 3 thousand on a lil’ bracelet?” Jermaine asked with an incredulous laugh after the two settled into his car, driving along the Santa Monica Pier.

“Maine, she’s not just some girl. She’s the love of my life,” he said with a wistful sigh. “Besides, 3 thousand is nothin’. I’d hang the moon and stars for her,” Michael responded earnestly. He’d do a lot for you for no reward at all; just the thought that it was something that convenienced you even a fraction was enough.

“See, this exactly what I mean. Doin’ all that for her and you haven’t even laid down with the girl yet.” The older brother laughed at Michael’s ‘yes man’ attitude toward you, finding the idea of his superstar brother being a total worm for you hilarious.

“We’ve done plenty!” he defended, not enjoying the idea of his older brother seeing him as less experienced for what he’d allowed himself to explore regarding his sex life.

“Like what?” Jermaine questioned, raising a disbelieving eyebrow.

“It doesn’t matter! And I don’t see relationships as transactional anyway. The fact that she even likes me is enough.”

A beat of silence settled over the car as Jermaine drove away from the boardwalk, pulling up the car’s hood as they approached a crowd of teenaged girls dancing to one of their older songs, not wanting to be recognized.

When they finally hit the freeway, Michael spoke.

“What do you do?”

“Whatchu mean?” Jermaine pressed.

“Like, how do you…start? Makin’ love, I mean.” Michael cleared his throat.

“We’ve done stuff before, I wasn’t lyin’ about that. But we haven’t gone all the way. She makes me too nervous, ‘n I’m scared of…I don’t want it to end so fast,” he rambled on, realizing Jermaine wasn’t going to interrupt him and was actually giving this some thought.

“You gotta just let it happen, man. I mean, I usually lay the girl down ‘n start kissin’ up on her, but I don’t see you bein’ the type to…” he trailed off in thought. “Just build up tension. Start givin’ her the eyes, ya know? She’ll get the hint.”

“The eyes? Maine, I can barely get close to her in the moment without goin’ dumb.” Michael wiped his hand across his face, trying to cool himself down before he started blushing.

“Here, how’s this?” Jermaine exited the freeway and began demonstrating what he meant at the red light.

“Take your hand, place it on her shoulder like this, look her up ‘n down from her lips to her eyes, and give her a lil’ smirk. She’ll know.” He accelerated on the gas pedal as the light turned green.

“O-okay. Yeah that seems easy enough,” Michael responded shyly.

“Don’t bring this up to anyone else, Maine. I’ll kill you,” he added, realizing how vulnerable he’d gotten. He’d never hear the end of it from Marlon if this got out.

At exactly half past 5, Michael was ringing at your doorbell, your gifts and his belongings in tow. He told Bill he was spending two nights at your place, reminding him not to be seen by your neighbors during his patrols, and basically flew to your doorstep.

You opened it almost immediately, seeming just about as excited as he was, and plastered your lips onto his in an intimate kiss- too intimate for your front door.

“Hi, my pretty boy. Let’s get you inside, yeah?” you greeted him, noticing the way he flustered up at the nickname.

“Yeah…” he said with a ditzy grin across his face.

“O-oh! I got you these gifts!” he announced with pride. He was carrying them and all of his belongings for the sleepover in one hand, determined to not let you help him carry anything.

You pushed the door wide for him to come in, knowing better than to offer to help him. He seemed to be moving without thinking, just taking steps by pure instinct. As he neared the staircase leading to the upstairs bedrooms, you could see the defeat dawn across his face.

“C’mon, baby. Lemme at least just carry one bag. I’m a big girl.” You took his duffel bag, presumably with his belongings, and led the way, not giving him a second to stop you.

He sighed dramatically and trailed up the steps behind you, his fingers that were straining under the heavier duffel bag feeling relief from the absence of its weight.

As you pushed into your bedroom, the scent of fresh linen and cinnamon wafted into his nostrils, a sudden comfort settling into his bones at the now familiar scent. You shrugged your robe off your shoulders, and Michael realized you were already in your pajamas. He took his duffel bag from your hands, sat down his belongings, and handed you your first gift.

“I’m realizin’ it’s probably too late for this now, but here! I have a feeling you’ll love ‘em.” He was practically vibrating in anticipation.

“I can’t believe you brought me gifts, Mikey. You’re so thoughtful.” You gave him a quick peck and opened the gift box. Inside sat the pj set you fawned over with Michael 2 weeks ago at your kitchen table. It was a red and white gingham two piece set with strawberry pockets on the butt of the mini shorts. The top was a lace-trimmed camisole that stopped just above your hipbone and was see through around the flowy skirt of it. And it was perfect.

“Oh, Michael! I’m putting this on immediately, are you kidding? This is perfect! Thank you so much.” You grabbed him with both hands by the face and littered his burning cheeks in kisses.

“It was nothin’. Here, open the others!” He was eating up your reactions. You jumped up and down at the blanket and tried to pick him up and spin him once you saw the bracelet.

“Hey, let go!” he’d declared in protest with a surprised chuckle at your strength.

“Put it on me, baby,” you told him, breathless, as you let go of his torso.

With a shy smile, he followed your demand mindlessly.

“Do you like it?” he asked, knowing you did. He just wanted to hear you say it.

“I adore it. The first charm I’m gonna buy will be a little ‘M’ just for you. Wouldn’t that be so cute?” you asked him, twisting your wrist around in the warm lighting of your bedroom.

“You’d do that?” he asked you, genuinely surprised by the act of possession.

“Of course! I’d tattoo your name across my chest,” you responded with a quick kiss to his lips as you made your way to your restroom with your new pajama set in hand.

The idea of you tattooing his name on you filled him with a sickening amount of pride.

You stepped back into the room almost as quickly as you left it, and you looked unreal. The cups in the top held your breasts up in just the right way, and the sheer, flowy bottom of it put your torso on full display for him. The shorts were no better. You gave him a twirl, and when his eyes met your backside, he nearly fell at your feet. Your strawberry-adorned ass was sitting prettily in the fabric, the bottom of your soft cheeks on full display for his greedy eyes. You turned back around and sauntered over to him.

“You look perfect,” he complimented you with a dumb smile.

“Hmm, do I?” you teased him as you unzipped his jacket for him.

“Yes, perfect…” he said, losing his train of thought as his eyes fell to the barely-there neckline of your top. He absentmindedly let you pull the jacket off, completely distracted by the view in front of him.

“Get comfortable, baby. I’m gonna go get us popcorn and oj. Then I’ll pick a movie. How’s that sound?” you asked him, knowing he was barely even paying attention.

“Hmm? Yeah, sounds great…” he responded, not able to find more words.

“Michael. Shower. Now.” You turned on your heel and walked with an extra bounce in your step, purposely doing so to make your ass move a bit more as you stepped. He drank it all up and unpacked his stuff in a daze.

He realized he forgot to bring his own body soap, and reveled in the idea of using yours. He couldn’t wait to smell like his girl. It was all he thought about during the 15-minute shower as he lathered up, scrubbed his body, and rinsed off. He brought his own lotion and toothpaste, disgruntled by the idea that he had no excuse to use yours. After he finished moisturizing, he left the room with a small smile, and placed his clothes into your hamper.

He saw you sitting comfortably on the soft carpet at the foot of your bed, your robe on your shoulders and a deck of cards sat in front of you alongside your snacks. You’d brought 2 big slices of homemade pizza, a bottle of tobasco, wet wipes for your hands, and two water bottles, alongside the share-size bowl of popcorn and two glasses of orange juice you’d mentioned. Bambi was in your VCR displaying the main menu, waiting to be played.

He approached you quietly while holding his breath, his mind going crazy at the sight of your legs crossed in front of you. They were making him nervous. He loved your legs.

You looked up at him and a cocky smile spread across your lips.

“You found a matchin’ shirt, huh?” you pressed your index finger to his torso as he sank down next to you, finding the idea of him searching for something to go with your sleep set cute.

“Oh…Yeah, is the matchin’ too much? I just wanted to…” he trailed off, unable to find any excuse that didn’t expose his intentions.

“I love it, baby. We look cute together.” You wrapped your arms around his neck and gave him a kiss on his jaw. A shiver ran down his spine.

“Eat. I just got this out of the oven, so it should still be hot.” You picked up his plate of pizza and handed it to him, watching with a devious glint in your eye as he obeyed your command. He said a quick prayer, blew the slice, and took a hearty bite while looking deep into your eyes.

“Thank you so much. It’s really good,” he said earnestly, covering his food-filled mouth as he spoke.

“Thank you. Now eat up. I’m gonna start the movie and we can play cards while we watch, when we’re done with the pizza.”

You did just as you said and so did he, eagerly at that. You’d think he didn’t have a brain for his own with the way he just did whatever you told him to. He was wrapped tightly around your pinky finger, just how you liked him.

After you beat him for the fourth time at Go Fish, the movie long having ended, you had him help you bring down your empty dishes and soiled wet wipes downstairs to clean and get rid of.

“I have a game I wanna play,” you stated casually as you handed him the soapy pizza pan you just washed. He rinsed and dried it immediately.

“What is it?” he asked with a little too much enthusiasm. He would do anything if it meant being in your presence.

“It’s…not really an official game. Just somethin’ I sorta made up. You’re gonna like it though.” You said the last sentence as an order, not an assumption. His stomach turned with excitement at the sternness in your voice. “Finish rinsing and drying these and I’ll go brush my teeth ‘n set it up for us. You also brush your teeth when you’re done.”

You left him to the task and hurried up the stairs. You were much more excited than you were letting on tonight. You’d went on a little shopping trip yourself, earlier, spending spent the day at different makeup and department stores meticulously picking out an assortment of flavored lipglosses and chapsticks. You wanted to try them all on and have Michael guess what each flavor was after kissing you. The thought came to you after a particularly vivid dream of him begging you to wear your honey glaze scented gloss while you fucked. You decided you wanted him to be like that after any scent he ever smelled from there on out.

After brushing your teeth, you took off your robe and then laid all of the lip products evenly on your fluffy carpet, and placed your black eye mask beside them, waiting patiently for your boyfriend to leap up the stairs.

As he made it inside your room from your bathroom, having entered it from the hallway, he took in your position and the random scene in front of you, lifting an eyebrow.

“What kinda game is this?” he asked, sounding almost frightened.

“It’s a chapstick challenge. I put on a layer of one of the glosses or lip balms, and you guess the flavors by french kissing me,” you responded with a dazzling smile.

“K-kiss…Okay.” He was already losing it by the mere idea of the game. “And I wear the blindfold?” he inquired.

“Yep. No peeking, understand?” you said, faux seriousness laced into your voice.

“Yes, ma’am,” he responded, only half jokingly with the honorific, with his left hand to his temple in a fake salute.

You placed the blindfold over his thick afro, leaving it up just above the eyes, before giving him a kiss. You pulled away and bit your lip at the dazed look on Michael’s face.

You got up- slightly bouncing your ass again- to turn on the record player sitting on your bedside dresser, and adjusted the volume to a comfortable background hum, setting the ambience.

You plopped back down in front of him, and he looked at you hungrily, licking his lips and trying to ignore the lust growing in his abdomen.

“Can I know the flavors, please? Or am I going into this blind?” he inquired.

“We’ll do 7. They’re pretty easy to guess, so I’m making you go in blind. You’re fine with that though, aren’t you baby? You’ll be the best guesser ‘cuz you’re just so smart, right?” you cooed at him, knowing the way you spoke to him would get him to move a mountain for you if you told him to.

“Y-yeah I’m…It’ll be easy.” Bingo.

You pulled the mask over his eyes and opened the first chapstick, the pop of the lid unsealing catching his surprise since his non visual senses were heightened. Cherry. Easy. You applied a generous layer and rubbed your lips together as you inched toward his face.

You pressed your lips to his harshly and he got to work immediately. His tongue explored your lips much longer than it should’ve. This was one of the easiest flavors to guess, by far. He was being greedy. You pulled away with a pop, smirking at his neediness.

“Ch-cherry?” he asked, like it wasn’t obvious.

“You sure you don’t wanna search some more? That was one of the easiest. You could’ve been more sly about it,” you said teasingly.

“‘M s-sorry. I just love your lips…” he trailed off, embarrassed.

“I’m just teasin’. Of course it was cherry. One point to you! Good job, Mikey.” His lip twitched at the praise.

Peach was next. It wasn’t too hard, but the scent threw off the flavor; it smelled like mango. That was the exact reason you chose it. The ambiguity left room for more.

You repeated your earlier ministrations of application, and kissed him again, this time scooting a little closer to his body. You even cupped his jaw with your hand, eliciting such a soft whine, you were almost convinced you misheard it.

The kiss was longer this time, but purposely. You even took the opportunity to pull at his hair the tiniest bit, smiling against his lips as he made a surprised sound at the back of his throat. He pulled away this time, out of breath.

“That one stumped me. It smells way different than it tastes. I’m gonna guess somethin’ fruity…Peach?” he guessed.

“You got it!” you responded, genuinely surprised. “That one was one of the hardest ones. Didn’t it smell like mango?”

“Yes, that’s what that smell was! It confused me bad.” He chuckled softly, as he reached his hand out toward you, searching for your waist. You reached out to his hand and guided it to where he wanted it, biting your lip at the contact.

This flavor was watermelon. You applied the sticky balm to your lips and smacked them loudly, warning him of your impact this time. He met your lips with ease and immediately got to sucking and licking. His free hand cupped the back of your neck and he deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue past your lips and into your mouth. He moaned when your wet muscle met his, then pulled back, chest heaving.

“Just been waitin’ to do that. I know it was watermelon,” he announced proudly.

“Someone’s gettin’ a lil antsy, huh?” you responded, trying to conceal your bated breath. His lips faltered at the teasing, trying and failing to find an excuse.

“It’s okay, baby. I like when you get desperate.” He bit his lip and covered his face with his hands.

You reached for the next lip balm, this one being cinnamon flavored. He loved cinnamon, which was the reason you bought it. You lathered it on and pulled his hands away from his cheeks, meeting his lips once more. You decided to turn it up a notch by placing his hands right under your breasts and sliding a hand onto his chest, feeling his heart hammering pathetically under your touch, and throwing one of your legs over his. He gasped slightly and pulled you closer, his fingers holding you with a firm grip.

You led the kiss this time, almost forgetting you were playing a ‘game.’ You bit his lip and sucked his tongue just enough to make him squirm, and pulled away.

“What flavor?” you asked him smugly, staring at the slight sheen of lipgloss scattered about his chin and mouth. He didn’t respond, mouth still slightly hanging open with a dazed grin.

“What’s the matter? Cat gotcha tongue?” you continued teasing.

“No, I…You make me forget things,” he admitted sheepishly.

Scratching his neck while keeping one of his hands on your body, he continued.

“Well, I definitely know that was cinnamon. That’s my guess.”

“I knew you’d get that one. I thought of you specifically when I bought it,” you admitted. You poked his nose and absentmindedly applied the next gloss. It was one you already owned and the two of you absolutely adored. Honey glaze.

You smacked your lips one more, letting yourself taste the flavor as you did so, and settled yourself fully on top of his lap now. You felt how hard he was and ground against him languidly once. He whimpered at the contact immediately.

“Aww, my baby’s getting this turned on just from kissing? What am I gonna do with you?” you cooed at him, your breath fanning over his lips. His dick jumped immediately.

“Oh. You’re wearing my favorite…honey glaze.” His knowledge surprised you.

“You peeked, didn’t you?” you questioned him suspiciously.

“N-no! I just…I love the smell of this one. I can recognize it anywhere. Please kiss me,” he whined.

You leaned in and the kiss turned sloppy immediately.

He gripped your waist hungrily with both of his hands, and rocked up into your crotch desperately. You moaned against his tongue as he licked your mouth inside and out, drool sliding down your cheek.

The both of you got incredibly lost in the moment, allowing your need for each other to bubble up sporadically. You ground harshly against his erection and sucked his neck, leaving a bruise in its wake. He moaned once really loudly, and his hips jerked against yours. Then, his hands flew from your waist and ripped the blindfold off of his face.

“‘M sorry. I need to use the restroom,” he quickly mumbled out. He gently slid from underneath you, then made a beeline for your bathroom door.

“Mich-” you called after him breathlessly as the door shut.

“Damnit,” he mumbled as he pulled down his pants. His cum sat proudly against the fabric of his boxers, much to his annoyance. He grabbed a wet wipe and cleaned his crotch wildly, the cold wetness making him shiver. He couldn’t believe he let himself go like that. Sliding his underwear off, he internally cursed himself for being so embarrassing. He washed his hands and entered the room again, his head hanging low and his underwear balled into his fist. He put it inside your hamper and then sat on the edge of your bed without a word, avoiding your gaze.

You knew exactly what happened, and it made you cocky.

“Mikey, baby. I know you came your pants,” you announced crudely. You sat down next to him with a wicked smile tugging at your lips.

“It’s embarrassing. We didn’t even do anything…” He sniffed in shame.

“Baby, it’s flattering. I’m glad to know that you get that horny for me,” you replied. You gripped his jaw, forcing him to look you in the eye.

“It’s not…Well, yes. I do get…aroused by you. But it’s your lipgloss. The smell…It makes my brain numb,” he admitted.

You removed your hand and bent over right in front of him to pick up the honey glaze scented gloss from the carpet, purposely nudging your butt against his knee as you reached down. You turned back around and waved it in his face tauntingly.

“This lipgloss? My favorite one?” You opened it and applied another layer. Setting it down on the bed, you placed your hands on either side of his legs and inched toward his face.

“The smell turns you on?” you asked, letting the scent waft around his personal space. He whimpered loudly.

“Yes,” he spat out, shoving down a heavy gulp. He could already feel himself getting hard again, and his eyes trailed down your torso, straight to the curve of your breasts, which were more visible due to you being bent over.

“You checkin’ me out?” you asked him mockingly.

His eyes snapped to your face as if he got caught doing something wrong. You sat back down next to him and stared at his bottom lip, which was being cradled between his teeth.

The way you were looking at him, like you were a predator hunting its prey, made Michael’s heart hammer so loudly against his chest that he swore you could hear it.

Then, a voice echoed in his head.

Start givin’ her the eyes…Take your hand, place it on her shoulder…look her up ‘n down…

He followed each direction as it played in his mind, his sudden confidence faltering your own in its track. Then, he gave you the sexiest smirk you’d ever seen.

…Give her a lil’ smirk. She’ll know.

“Do you wanna fuck me?” you asked him straightforwardly. He flinched a bit at how direct your words were.

“Yes,” he sighed. “B-but only if you wanna! I don’t…It has to be your choice.” What he really wanted to say was that he wanted you to use his body like he only existed for your pleasure.

“Then fuck me, Michael. Rip my clothes off and plow me into my sheets.” You slid your thumb across his bottom lip and tugged it down. He stared at you like a deer in headlights.

“You gonna touch me, or what?” you asked, cocking your head to the side in fake confusion. You knew your words were scrambling his brain, and you loved it.

“Y- sorry. Um.” He fumbled with his hands, not knowing where to touch you or place them. He felt like an idiot. You’ve engaged in sexual acts before, but he felt out of his league now, the looming state of his virginity making everything much more serious.

“Go get a condom from my dresser. Top drawer,” you ordered him. He obeyed and picked a small foil wrapper from the unopened Trojan box. He secretly thanked God at the sight, realizing you hadn’t recently been using them with anyone else, although he already knew that.

He held the foreign object in his hand and stood between your parted legs.

“C’mere,” you said before pulling him down by his neck and making out with him like you hadn’t been allowed to for a century.

He cautiously explored your body with his large hands, continuing certain gropes and squeezes when you gave him louder whines.

His body was now hovering yours, propped up by his forearms, and you could feel his heavy dick slap against your crotch through his pants as he went to kiss tenderly on your neck.

“I’m not wearing any underwear either. Wanna feel how wet I am for you?” you asked him lewdly.

“Please,” he begged, letting you take his hand and place it square on top of your clothed pussy.

He could feel you pounding beneath his palm, and he felt that familiar slimy substance connecting his hand to your core. He rubbed two of his fingers into you a bit, collecting some of your arousal. Detaching his mouth from your neck, he looked down at you with a dazed expression. With his free hand, he gently gripped your face, making you look at him.

Without a word, he removed his hand from your sex and sniffed his fingers greedily. He bucked his hips into yours, and shoved those fingers into his mouth with a loud groan.

You were in awe.

“I had no idea you were this filthy. Thought you were a good boy, but I guess you’re way dirtier than I thought,” you told him with surprise etched into every word. Your statement only made him needier. He shoved his fingers farther into his mouth and pulled them out, searching for your cunt again.

“Please, let me take these off. Wanna feel you,” he begged, a mixture of drool and your arousal collecting at the corner of his parted lips.

“Go ahead baby. Show me how much you want me.”

With a whimper, he crawled down your body and landed on his knees with effortless agility. He hooked his fingers into the top of your pajama shorts and froze.

“I-i’m a virgin,” he stated, voice barely above a whisper.

“Michael, I know. We’ve talked about this plenty of times,” you responded patiently. You knew he was nervous, but you also knew he wanted this.

“I know, it’s just that…I’m not gonna know how to do everything. I don’t wanna embarrass myself,” he replied meekly.

“Baby…I know you think I’m some sex god, but I’m still a virgin too.” You sat up and looked down at him, forcing him to meet your intense gaze. He looked stunned.

“It’s okay if you’re not. You don’t needa lie to me to make me feel bet-” You interrupted him by clamping your hand over his mouth.

“Michael, I’m not lying. When I told you before we ever did anything sexual that I had experience, that wasn’t a lie either. I’ve just never trusted anyone to go all the way. But I trust you and I want this with you. Don’t you wanna give it to me?” you asked him with a faux-sad pout.

“Of course! I wanna be your first…I want you to be mine. And my last. I wanna give my soul to you,” he rambled, inching your shorts down your thighs as he leaned in closer.

“I can’t believe you’re letting me..” he spoke quietly, mostly to himself, drifting off once he unclothed your lower body. He threw the damp shorts onto the floor and looked up at you with so much gratitude that it made your heart swell.

“Taste me,” you said, as you watched him lick his lips like he was starving.

He placed your thighs atop his shoulder and delved in, immediately grinding against nothing at the scent of your pussy.

“Mmm, th-that’s right. Just how I taught you before,” you spoke to him. He was circling your clit with his tongue with expert precision; just enough to feel like you were floating, but not enough to feel like you were grinding against a rock. Then he did something else you taught him, but with his own twist. He scratched up and down your thighs, the familiar sensation making you feel like music. But then, he slid his tongue down to your entrance and stuck it in, your arousal pooling around it in the act.

“F-fuck. Where’d you learn how to do that? Been seein’ someone else?” you inquired, only half joking. He pulled out and looked up at you with an earnest fire in his eyes.

“Never.” Then, he continued his actions, fucking his tongue into you as far as both of your anatomies would allow.

You pushed his head into you, grinding down with need. His afro acted as a protection against your brutal shove. He slid his tongue back out and worked your clit again, feeling confidence settle into his demeanor. So much confidence, he took two fingers, collected your arousal into them, and slid them into you. You cursed loudly.

“O-oh my god…F-Yeah! Curl them like that,” you mewled, your brain not knowing how to compute your pleasure into words. You’d only felt your own fingers inside there, once or twice, and you didn’t enjoy it. Your fingers couldn’t reach as far as his currently were, though.

You fell back against the bed as you felt your orgasm sprinting toward you faster than you anticipated, gripping onto your sheets and locking your ankles around Michael’s neck in an attempt to hold on.

“M-mikey, ah. Stop. Stop, stop, stop,” you breathed out to him, feeling the knot in your stomach almost unravel. He immediately withdrew his mouth and fingers, you arousal leaving a string of connection to his chin as he did so.

“Did it start to hurt? Sorry, I just thought you were gonna have an or-”

“I was gonna have an orgasm. I just don’t want to yet. I wanna suck that pretty dick of yours first. You’re gonna let me, right?” you asked him, not really leaving space to take no for an answer.

Michael never let you suck him off, to your own disappointment. He’s eaten you out so many times that you’d run out of positions for it, he’s let you grind against his dick with clothes, he’s even let you jerk him off, but he’s never let you get on your knees and put your mouth on it. His exact words were that it was ‘degrading and useless.’ He didn’t wanna hurt you. But you wanted to see him let go. You wanted the proof of your lewd acts with him physically etched into bruises to the back of your throat.

“Baby, I can’t let you do th-” You clamped your hand against his mouth once more.

“You’re gonna let me suck you off. Right?” you asked, slowly moving your hand away from his mouth.

“Ok-kay,” he responded with resignation in his voice.

He stood up and you slid his bottoms off, licking your lips at the sight of him. He was holding out on you because god was it pretty. And big. You thought he was just being a modest gentlemen when he told you he didn’t want to hurt you, but it was more than just that. He was really long, and he knew it.

“So you knew how big your dick was huh? That’s why you never let me do this. Betchu imagine me sucking that pretty thing off all the time.” You reached for it greedily and spit onto his tip, watching it slide down the base slowly.

“Stop- d-don’t talk about it like that..” he said weakly.

“Oh but you like it, though. I could practically feel you getting harder, baby. No need to be shy about it,” you egged him on. Before he could protest any longer, you wrapped your hand around his base and began tugging upward. You reached for your lipgloss with your free hand and applied a thick layer to your swollen lips. You blew a taunting kiss at him. He was visibly holding back his moans, much to your disapproval.

“Nuh-uh, let me hear those pretty moans. Sing for me, Michael,” you directed. He obeyed, and not even on purpose. The way you were touching and talking to him made him forget who he was.

“Feels s- you feel so good. I love you..” he blabbered.

“I love you too, baby.” You leaned forward and gave his shaft an open-mouthed kiss, maintaing eye contact with him. His whole body went rigid in shock as he saw the sticky mark your lip product left in its wake.

“Oh, god,” he groaned, jerking his hips up into your hand. You started twisting it whenever you got closer to his tip.

Without warning, you took it into your mouth, eyes focused on his, and sunk down on it. His eyes rolled back and his hands flew to the back of your head, holding it for composure. You began slowly moving up and down, flattening your tongue and sucking him like he was the best popsicle you’d ever tasted.

“Pl-ease, I don’t wanna cum yet. Plea-, please, please,” he begged on and on, turning please into a chant.

You hummed around his length, ignoring him, and continued to work. Tears stinged at your eyes, and drool dribbled out of your mouth. The sinful sight of you made him do something he swore he wouldn’t do. He rocked into your mouth roughly, just once, but it was enough to make you falter and gag against him. You moaned lustfully and your eyes lolled to the back of their sockets. He removed his hands from your head and scooted back from your mouth with a pop.

“‘M so sorry! I should’ve contained myself better. I know better. Did it hurt? If course it hurt, you’re crying and you gagged. Oh, God I’m so sorry prett-” You gripped onto his dick harshly, cutting him off.

“Michael, I want you to do that. I love it. Fuck my mouth, angel face. I can take it,” you reassured him with a devilish grin.

“N-no, I shouldn’t’ve let you touch me like that. You’re too precious…I can’t hurt you agai-”

“Michael. For the love of God, shut the hell up. I want you to hurt me and bruise me and make me cry. Is that not okay? Am I too dirty for you?” you asked him, feigning hurt. You secretly enjoyed tricking him into getting what you wanted because he somehow always gave it to you, and this time was gonna be no different.

“Not at all! You could never be too dirty for me…You’re perfect. I just don’t wanna degrade you like that. But since it’s what you want, okay. I’ll give you anythin’ you want.” Bingo.

“M’kay, now you gonna fuck my throat like a good boy, right?” you asked him with puppy dog eyes, tears still sitting in your waterline.

“Y-yes,” he responded hesitantly.

“Yes, what?” you asked him, enjoying working him up like this.

“Yes, angel. I-i’m gonna fuck your face…like a good…boy?” he responded, sounding more like he was trying to convince himself than he was you.

You gave him a soft hmm and pulled him back towards you, spitting a glob into your hand once more. You jerked him slowly 4 times and then looked him in his face.

“Don’t worry about me, ‘kay? If I want you to stop, I’ll make you stop. But, I trust you,” you said earnestly. “C’mon, stand up and give it to me, baby.”

Then, you opened your mouth, sticking your tongue out in anticipation. He hesitantly stood up, jerked himself twice, and then pushed into your mouth. Holding the back of your head gently, but firmly, with both of his hands, he set an inexperienced pace with his thrusts. You hollowed your cheeks and sucked harshly whenever he would drag his hips back, causing his legs to shake.

“Th-this is so, AH, wrong. You shouldn’t look this pretty like this. With my…thing in your mouth.”

You scrunched your brows into a pout and moaned loudly, forcing him to unconsciously fuck your mouth harder.

“B-baby you can’t do that, ‘m gonna finish if you do.” You continued moaning and sucking loudly, noticing his breaths shorten as his climax neared.

“God, you’re so pretty d-down there. Ngh- wait-” You forced yourself away from his crotch and crawled to the center of your bed, positioning yourself on all fours. You turned around and coaxed him over to you with a teasing finger.

“Baby, I need you. See how wet I am?” You arched your back and swayed your hips side to side, letting the light catch your arousal. “I need you to make me feel better. It’s aching,” you pouted. His feet were moving before his conscious mind could register your words, and he joined you in bed. He picked up the condom he mindlessly dropped earlier and unwrapped it.

“I-i’ll make you feel better,” her says as he pulled the rubber from its foil packet.

You turned around and took the contraceptive from him.

“Let me put it on you, daddy,” you smirked as you said the nickname.

“Don’t call me th-that,” he pouted.

You placed it on his tip with unnecessary friction and rolled it down his shaft, raising your eyebrows and smirking at the pathetic boy in front of you.

“Mmm, but you like it when I tease you with it,” you told him.

“Okay.” He gulped audibly and leaned down to press a hot kiss to your lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Michael. Now fuck me like you need it,” you said as you went back to your position on all fours. You were almost scared that he’d be too big, or that you’d need lube that you didn’t have, but as soon as he pushed his tip in, your pussy sucked him in. It was an unfamiliar feeling, being stretched like this, but your body didn’t register too much pain. You were drenched.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” he called out as your sex squelched around him, forcing him in deeper. You moaned out as he stretched and filled you. As soon as he bottomed out, he laid on top of your back, already feeling overwhelmed.

“M-michael! Oh my god, ‘m so wet. Needed your dick inside me so bad, fuck,” you inched forward and slammed back against his length forcefully, arching your back in the process. He sat up immediately and gripped onto your hips.

“The way you talk…” he trailed off as he started thrusting into you slowly.

“You like m-my dirty mouth, baby? Want me to talk to you through it, pretty boy?” you asked him, feeling his tip hit your g-spot with ease.

“Yes, please,” he whined, speeding up slightly in anticipation.

“F-fuck me harder, baby. Feels so good.” You pushed your head into your mattress, arching your back up higher, allowing yourself to take him deeper. He followed your instructions and snapped his hips into you harshly once, gauging your body’s response to the action. You pushed your ass further into his crotch, and he took that as silent permission.

“Mikeyyy. You’re so bad, taking my virginity in my bedroom like this. Mmm-fuck,” you whined, your vision going blurry with tears of pleasure.

“Y-yes, so bad. ‘M so bad,” he repeated, slamming into you faster. Your bed was creaking with his thrusts. He could already feel himself losing it again.

“Mmm, mmm, Mikey p-push my head into the mattress baby. Be rough.”

He obeyed immediately, leaning over and pressing his palm to the side of your head. He took one look at your face and felt his orgasm creeping up. Your mouth was wide open and there was a huge wet spot where your mouth leaked drool onto your sheets.

“You’re so pretty, baby. You look so good like this,” he complimented.

“With you plowin’ me into m-my own sheets? Thank you, baby boy.”

Your tongue licked at his thumb that was near your lips, and you sucked it into your mouth.

“OH! I’m g-onn…I’m cumming. Shit, I’m cumming!” he cried out as his hips stuttered. He buried himself into you deeply and filled the condom with his seed. He collapsed his torso onto your arched back and you bit his thumb. He clutched it after you spat it out of your mouth.

“I didn’t say to stop, did I? I thought you were a gentleman. Make me cum,” you demanded.

“Yes, baby. ‘M sorr-y…” he apologized in between whines of overstimulation.

You reached your hand down to your clit and started playing with it needily, overeager to cum on him. He pounded into you again, his dick half hard, as you started babbling into your bedsheets.

“Mikey, ‘m s-so close. Keep fuckin’ me like that, baby. You’re doin’ so well for me. You’re fillin’ me up so good.” The sound in the room was so unmistakable. The noise of creaky box springs, skin slapping and sticky arousal drowned out the hum of music leaving your record player.

He leaned down and hovered over your ear, whimpering into it. He sounded like an undiscovered instrument. The sound made your pussy squeeze against his shaft, signaling your orgasm.

“Y-yeah be louder. Love your filthy little whimpers, Michael. Gimme more,” you said with the last of your breath. He pounded harder and fully moaned into your ear, causing you to completely come undone.

You reached behind you and dug your nails into his sides as your legs shook and your pussy spasmed around his spent dick, already hardened again. You screamed his name like a prayer and Michael wished that was the only sound his ears would ever be subjected to again.

As you began going limp, Michael slid his arm underneath you, wrapping around your waist, and pulled out of you. He rolled into his side and pulled you on top of his chest, ignoring how hard he was again.

“I’m so glad it was you,” he said after he caught his breath.

“Hmm?” you asked him, looking up to the side of his face.

“My virginity. I’m glad you took it. It feels like you were exactly who I was waitin’ for whenever I would tell my brothers I was waitin’ on the right girl. No, you’re even better,” he said bashfully.

“Well, I’m glad you took mine too. You were absolutely perfect. I’m so glad we get to share this memory with each other. We fit so well together, don’tcha think? Like two halves of a puzzle,” you mused with a faint smile.

“I’d say so,” he said with a gulp loaded with a double meaning.

“Whatcha mean by that, baby?” you questioned him.

“Just…It’s like your body was swallowin’ me whole. It was incredible.” He bit his lips as he looked you in your eyes. You felt a pulsing at your abdomen, finally noticing how hard he was.

“Ohhh, my baby’s ready for round two? You have stamina…Good ta know,” you teased him with a giggle.

“‘M sorry, you just look ‘n sound so pretty when you’re tellin’ me what to do…”

“It’s okay, baby. Here. Let’s go take a quick shower, yeah? Then we can sixty-nine,” you said as you sat up on your knees. You gave him a wink. He gulped both audibly and visibly.

“Oh, yes please. I’d love that,” he responded with unconcealed enthusiasm. You pulled him behind you and led him toward the restroom, the excitement of round two noticeable in your light steps. You discarded your shirt and pulled Michael’s over his head for him.

“Take off that condom, baby. I’m gonna wash you up.”

He threw the soiled condom into your tiny tin trash can, and trailed after you like a puppy.

You turned on your shower and faced him, your tits on full display to him now. He swallowed loudly and gave a kiss to each of your nipples, surprising you in the act.

“I love you,” he whispered, and then leaned in to give you an intense kiss. His tongue slotted between your lips before you pulled away.

“Uh-uh. Don’t start something you can’t finish in here, needy boy. I’ll make it worth the wait.”

You stepped into the shower, him immediately after you, and the two of you let a comfortable silence settle in the air, washing yourselves and then each other’s backs.

With the two forgotten lip balm flavors lying lazily on the floor, the promise of your newly broadened sexual history etched into the empty house with a faint trace of a sweet scent. The scent of honey glaze.

Tags: @simp4eshal @urbanfunkchild @gothicmj @lil6uapa @yenvixx @cndybliss

Late at night in Michael’s quiet Hayvenhurst home, the two of you were wide awake with no intention of falling asleep anytime soon. You completely organized his cluttered room with him, finding space for all of his fanmail, posters, drawings, and his own albums. This was something you did with him often, making a part of his room a piece of you—leaving behind clothes and little knickknacks from your own apartment.

Nowadays, it seemed like you were never at your own home—spending every hour with Michael at every waking moment meant that he never had the “time” to pick you up from your apartment, and just insisted that you stay with him all the time so he wouldn’t have to miss you so badly.

You both were completely spent from moving everything around in Michael’s room, and you crashed on the memory foam mattress close to you, falling backwards onto it. Michael watched you do this and chuckled, watching your chest rise up and down from all the heavy breathing you were doing.

“S’ gettin’ late, mama. Can you stay tonight?” Michael asked, the tinge of begging in his voice never failing to convince you to do anything he wanted. It was late though, and the last thing you wanted to do was go back to your apartment and be alone, when you had all the access to another warm body right in front of you.

“I’ll stay, but give me a new shirt to sleep in, Mikey. M’ all hot nd’ sweaty.” You obliged, watching the man go through his drawers to find you a simple tshirt to fall asleep next to him in. He scurried around all his clothes to give you a plain white shirt, and carefully watched you undress.

Your body was something so holy to Michael. Every part of you was treated with such grace when it came to him, and he never missed a spot when he made love to you. Your body was one of the most gorgeous things he’d ever seen, and considering you were his first girlfriend, he knew that he had to treat you to a higher standard than anyone you’d ever been with before.

You took off and discarded your old shirt slowly, pulling the fabric over your head and onto his floor. All that was left were your shorts and bra, and no matter how many times Michael has seen you naked, whenever you stripped in front of him, it still made him extremely nervous.

Your tits were spilling out of your bra as it is, and when you unbuckled the back of it for more comfortability, Michael lost it. You saw him watching you with his bottom lip tucked inside of his mouth, scanning your body with precision. You smiled at him innocently, but it only drove him crazier.

You put the shirt of your head, and tugged your shorts down your legs. Whenever you went to sleep, you never wore much to bed—and it was always like that when you slept over Michael’s house. He liked feeling the warmth of your body, not always sexually either—just the coziness of your figure up against his made him turn off his brain.

You climbed into his bed, and got cozy under his blankets. You tapped the side next to you, signaling that he had no other choice but to come lay his body next to yours, because without him beside you—you would never get any sleep.

He walked over to you slowly, trying to get in bed with the clothes he’s had on all day. “Shirt off, Michael.” You demanded. Even though Michael had his insecurities, you never failed to reassure him of his beauty—and that is the reason he was never scared to show his body around you.

He pulled his shirt over his head, some of his curls frizzing up in the process. He got in bed next to you, but you couldn’t shake the dazed look on his face the entire time you laid next to him.

You rubbed circles on his chest, trying to soothe whatever mess was going on his mind, but nothing to work.

At least that’s what you thought.

Michael was going insane after seeing you half-naked like that earlier. It didn’t matter how many times he’d fucked you into oblivion, the sight of your body made him so erect that it physically hurt. He’d been staring at the ceiling trying to take his mind off of it, but feeling your fingertips rubbing his chest was not helping his case.

“What’s the matter, baby? What’s on your mind?” You questioned, laying turning your body to the side to look at him.

“S’ nothin’, baby… let’s just tryn’ go to sleep.” He nervously chuckled, knowing that he wasn’t fooling you at all, but he had to try.

“Don’t get all quiet on me, honey…c’mon, baby, what do y’ need?” You plead, sitting up against the headboard now. Michael was learning to finally talk to you about everything that was going on with him, but there were times where he’d continue to shut you out, even though that’s not what he intended to do.

He closed his eyes, a little embarrassed that he couldn’t contain himself around you, and even though you always took care of him, you still made him tense. The first time the two of you made love, he completely froze when you spread your legs for him, and it took a minute for you to get him to snap out of it.

“I don’t wanna talk about it, Tink. M’ good… get some rest.” Michael begged.

You started to put two and two together, and based on his reaction, you knew that deep down the problem was that Michael was horny. He hated admitting it, even though in your eyes it was nothing to be embarrassed about—you had no problem letting your beloved boyfriend know when you needed him to handle you. But Michael, he was timid—and getting a confession like that out of him took more than begging him to talk to you about it.

You had to physically get the reaction out of him.

“No, baby… I don’t think you’re good.” You said, seduction laced in your voice. You slowly slid down under his blankets, leaving just enough room for air, and to watch his face as you did what you had to do.

You’d never sucked Michael off before, just because he felt that it would put you in too much of a vulnerable position, but that was the least of your worries. You wanted to please your man in any way that you could, and giving him this would help ease the tension in his mind.

His body was on edge, and as you ran your hands along his waist and down to his boxers, he didn’t say much—he just let you.

“I really wanna suck it, baby. Can I?” You urged, your eyelashes fluttering at the man above you. He looked down at you, and nodded his head.

“Don’t just nod at me, Michael. Use your words, baby, Y’know better.” You begged, running your hands along his bulge.

“Okay, okay… but I wanna see all of you. Not just under these blankets.” Michael asks, his dick twitching at your touch.

“And that means?” You tease, knowing exactly what it meant. Michael wanted another chance to worship you, and seeing your whole body in full view is what gets him there every time.

“Can you get on your knees f’me, mama? Please?” Michael begged, his voice shaking.

You agree, and Michael sits up against the headboard. He turns his body around to sit up straight on the edge of the bed, and you sink to your knees. You thought the process would be more fun if you stripped again, so you deliberately removed his shirt clad to your body, and the bright beams of the moon above cascaded down the arch of your back.

You pulled down Michael’s boxers, and the inches he had on him used to intimidate you. Now, you know exactly how to use all of him to your advantage and his, and every session the two of you had was pure bliss. It was girthy while still maintaining its length, but you were confident that you’d use your mouth to satisfy him.

“M’ nervous, mama. You’ve… you ain’t never done this before—I don’t wanna hurt you.” He says, his eyebrows knitted on his forehead.

“I’ll let y’ know if it’s too much, baby. Relax, and let me do this.” You insisted, taking one of his hands already gripping the sheets into yours.

You started off slow, you slid your hand up and down against his shaft, just to get it going. Then, you kissed his tip, the beautiful brown shade that you adored so much, and all the way down to the bottom of his dick. Michael was so anxious all the time, but you could see in his face that he was enjoying himself.

Michael’s dick stood thick and hard before you, his veined shaft pulsing faintly with anticipation, and the swollen head already glistening with a bead of precum.

“Mm—goodness, girl. Yeah, that…that feels nice.” He admits, his fingers threading into your hair.

This was only the beginning.

You finally put your mouth on him, taking in as much as you could. Your throat felt endless when it came to Michael’s dick, and all of your saliva covering it was turning him on more than ever.

Your hand wrapped around the base, squeezing gently, and you opened your mouth wider. You took him inch by inch, your lips stretching around the girth, tongue pressing flat against the underside as you sank deeper. The wet heat of your mouth enveloped Michael completely, your cheeks hollowing as you sucked.

You bobbed your head with a steady rhythm, taking him to the back of your throat before pulling back with an obscene pop. Your saliva continued to slide down his shaft, dripping down to coat her fingers as you stroked him in time your mouth.

“Oh shit, mama. Feels so good.” Michael moaned, his hips bucking involuntarily as you took him deeper again, relaxing your throat to swallow around the head, the tight constriction making Michael’s eyes roll to the back of his head.

“I knew you’d like it, Michael.” You moaned, and it was absolutely filthy. Your eyes were watering slightly but you never broke contact. You worked him faster now, sucking harder–and your head moved with wet, slurping sounds that filled up his bedroom. You were praying no one heard the two of you–considering how loud Michael’s whimpers and groans got whenever he was close to his climax.

Your lips were swollen and shiny, sliding with ease up and down Michael’s glistening shaft, while you twisted your hand around the base with just the right pressure.

“M’ gettin’ real close, beautiful. Where do y’ want it…?” Michael pleaded with you, because he was throbbing. He was close, every nerve alight. You could feel it in the way he was swelling around your tongue, and getting him like this made your core blaze.

“Back of my throat, baby. Mm–need it.” You teased, a wicked smile in your eyes. You doubled down, starting to suck him relentlessly, your mouth a perfect, velvet vise of heat and friction until Michael’s grip tightened in your hair. He spilled down your throat with a deep, guttural groan, and you swallowed every drop. You milked him through his aftershocks with lazy licks until his body was spent and trembling.

You pulled off with one last kiss to his sensitive tip, and licked your lips as you looked up at him.

“Now you get some rest.”

freakinme ©, all rights reserved! (๑ᵔ⤙ᵔ๑), i hope you enjoyed!

taglist — ⋮ ⌗ ୭ ᵎᵎ 🧁 ┆ @angelcrescent @smoothcriminalgf @kiwikisses20 @savagenctzen @plan3tch1ld @platanita @iluhbiceps @mikesbian @angelofmikes @j3nnyluvscupc4k3s @jackiesbambi

The laughter downstairs carried through the walls anyway. Someone had started another round of "Happy Birthday," though half the kids had already abandoned the song in favor of yelling over each other.

The music from downstairs dulled instantly. Michael didn't even look at you. Instead, he crossed his arms and stared out the window like he'd been personally wronged by the sun. You sighed. "Really?" still no answer. "Michael." Still nothing. "Oh, so we're doing the silent treatment now?"

"I have nothin' to say." You blinked. "Then why did you drag me in here?" His jaw flexed. "I didn't drag you."

"You literally grabbed my wrist."

"I guided you." You laughed once. "You're so unbelievable."

"So are you."

"What does that mean?" He finally turned. "What does it mean?" He gestured toward you. "You're wearing that."

You looked down at your dress. The black one.

The one that hugged your waist just right, dipped a little lower in the back, and had earned the nickname 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨 𝙢𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙙 𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙨 years ago, because every single time you wore it, Michael couldn't keep his hands off you.

Back when he was your husband. "It's a dress, Michael..get over it."

"It is not just a dress."

"It absolutely is." He scoffed. "You know exactly what dress that is."

"Oh god."

"You wore it on our anniversary in Paris. You wore it when we renewed our vows, goodness.. you wore it when i couldn't stop makin' love to you."

"That was eleven years ago." His face twisted. "You don't have to remind me miss." Your lips pressed together. "You don't get to tell me what I wear anymore."

"I know."

"But you're acting like you do."

"I know."

"So what's the problem?" He looked away. His voice came out quieter. "I don't like other men looking at you."

Your face slightly softens. "...Michael." He looks up. "I don't."

"You lost that privilege." You said with no empathy. "I know." He laughed bitterly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Believe me, I'm painfully aware." The tension softened.

You hated when his voice did that. That tiny crack. That little glimpse of the man you'd built fifteen years of your life with. "You looked..." He searched for the words. "Beautiful."

Your heart jumped. "I couldn't stop noticing." His gaze dipped "You weren't supposed to." You tease.

"And every man downstairs was looking at you." You folded your arms. "Were they?" He shot you a look. "Don't do that." A smile tugged at your lips. "Are you jealous?"

"No." He said fast. "look at me...michael." and he did. "I'm irritated." You roll your eyes. "That's jealousy."

"It's different."

"It really isn't." He groaned dramatically, dropping into your brother's desk chair. "I hate this."

"What?"

"Being divorced." Your smile faded. "I hate that I can't walk over and put my hand on your waist." He looked at the floor. "I hate that I have to pretend it doesn't bother me." Another beat of silence. Then, from the hallway— "uncle applehead?"

Both your heads snapped toward the door.Your brother's oldest son. Cameron, muffled voice came through.

"Auntie (name)? Uncle bryan said we're taking a family picture." You and Michael exchanged a look.

He stood, straightening his jacket. "You still drive me crazy," he muttered.You smirked. "Oh, I know."

"...You wore that dress on purpose." you bite your lips. "I did." His eyes widened. "You are evil." You grinned all the way out the door. "And yet..." You glanced over your shoulder. "...you married me."

He couldn't even argue. He just shook his head with the tiniest, most lovesick smile. "Cameron..tell uncle bryan we're a little busy 'kay?"

ᯓᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹

he murmured, his hand brushing your cheek. "Let Daddy take care of his girl, hm?" His words made your heart skip and your thighs clench around him as he lined himself up with you.

The first slow push had you gasping. He was still stretching you inch by inch after all this years, your nails pressing into his back as he moved carefully.

"O-oh sooo good," he groaned, burying his face in your neck. "Still so tight—So warm, baby.." Your breath hitched, eyes fluttering shut as your body adjusted to the feeling of him...so big, filling you so deeply you couldn’t think.

"You’re doing so good, sweetheart," he whispered, kissing your shoulder as he bottomed out. He stayed still for a second, letting you breathe, his hand still holding your waist, his touch grounding. Then slowly, he began to move. Your moans were soft at first, breathy and needy, hands gripping onto his back like it was the only thing grounding you.

But then he started to go deeper. His hips snapped forward harder, more purposeful, and your sounds shifted, whimpers, then moans, broken and high-pitched.

He groaned low in your ear, his pace steady but rough, his large hands locked tight around your waist. "Y-you feel that, mama?" he rasped, eyes dropping down between your bodies.

You blinked through the pleasure, dazed and flushed, until you followed his gaze, and your breath hitched. There. A faint bump rising under the skin of your stomach every time he drove into you.

"Look at that," he muttered, voice full of awe. "You feel me here, huh, sweetheart?" Your lips parted, no words coming, just a shaky moan as he flattened his palm over the bulge. You trembled under him as he pressed down, and your body clenched tight around him.

"Shit," he hissed, "You’re so Beautiful, mama. Can y'feel every inch of me?" You nodded frantically, tears almost pricking your eyes from how full you were, from how deep he was.

"C-can’t believe I’m this d-deep in you," he growled, thrusting up again, and again, letting his hand stay firm on your stomach while your fingers gripped the sheets. "Taking it so well f’me. My perfect girl." Michael's hotel room was filled with the sound of skin against skin, the wetness between you obscene and constant, your voice breaking into gasps as he kept pounding into you.

You moaned louder and louder, he brought his hand down between your legs, fingers finding your clit with ease.

He started circling, slow and firm, and it was like your entire body shutdown. "C’mon, let go f’me," he murmured, lips grazing your temple. "My pretty lady." It only took a few more strokes of his fingers, perfectly timed with the deep thrusts of his hips, and your body tensed underneath him.

a loud moan broke from your throat as you came hard, everything pulsing, your walls fluttering around him, your thighs shaking uncontrollably.

He groaned at the feel of it, hips stuttering slightly, hands tightening around your waist to steady you through it. You barely had a moment to breathe before he pulled out and flipped you onto your stomach.

still trembling from your orgasm, you blinked up at him over your shoulder, dazed. He was already stroking himself at the sight of you like this. Face down, ass up, skin flushed and glistening. He leaned over and kissed the base of your spine, both hands caressing your ass as he lined himself back up. "Y-you can give me one more for Daddy, yeah?"

You were already nodding, dazed and needy. His large palms smoothed over the curve of your ass before he gave a sharp, affectionate squeeze.

You whimpered into the pillow when he slipped back inside, deeper now somehow, your body so sensitive. He bent forward over your back, mouth brushing your shoulder. "You’re so good to me..mmh.." he praised, hips rolling into you harder.

"I miss you mama,.. i dont deserve you." Your fingers clawed at the pillows as your body rocked with his rhythm, a fresh wave of pleasure building fast, hotter, messier.

He slid a hand around your waist, fingertips finding your clit again, rubbing soft circles that made your legs tremble. "mmhhm!!—mikey!" you whimpered, body arching as his hand kept moving so deliciously. "Close, sweetheart?" murmured in your ear, his voice hoarse, strained. "shit, m-me too…" you nodded frantically, barely able to form words. "Y's-so big.. i missed you daddy—M’so close!"

"I’m gonna make you a mommy," he whispered, voice gravelly in your ear. "Fill you up just right—watch you carry my baby, yeah?" Your whole body jolted at his words, the sound of them shooting straight to your core.

You nodded uncontrollably, thighs clenching, the pleasure unbearable now, building fast and out of control. "Daddy—m’gonna—ahh!" you moaned, voice breaking into a high-pitched moan as the wave finally hit you.

Your body shook violently, hips jerking, and then it happened, your climax crashing over you so hard, you couldn’t stop the gush that followed, soaking everything beneath you. "yesss atta girl, so good mama," he hissed, watching it happen under him.

The sight alone was enough. His thrusts faltered and his grip on your waist tightened almost bruisingly. "s-shitttt, I’m gonna cum—shit—" With a final, deep groan and whimper, he buried himself to the hilt and came inside you, cock pulsing as he spilled every last drop into your still twitching cunt.

He flipped you over, and shoved his mouth onto yours, kissing you hungrily, his hand cupping your jaw. You both lay there for a long moment, chests rising and falling in sync, the quiet only broken by your mingled breaths.

His forehead rested against yours, eyes half lidded and soft as he murmured, "I missed you so damn much baby..divorce sucks, I’ll buy you the pill in the morning, okay?" you smiled sleepily, brushing your fingers gently over his cheek. "I missed you more angel, its okay." you whispered, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his lips.

A few minutes passed, and then Michael shifted, letting out a long exhale before resting his head against your bare chest, his arms lazily wrapping around your waist like he never wanted to let go. You threaded your fingers through his hair without thinking, letting your nails lightly scrape over his scalp in slow, soothing motions. He let out a quiet hum, almost like a purr, before speaking—voice lower than before, like a secret he hadn’t meant to say aloud. "Would you like to get on tour with me again, love? i miss you so bad."

© DIARYKISS. ‎‎‎ ❤︎ all rights reserved. all works are a work of fiction. do not copy.

“Should I put something on? D’you have any requests?” he asked after a moment of quiet, finally looking you in the eyes. His rapid blinking unintentionally caused his eyelashes to flutter, and you bit back a smile at the sight.

“You pick. I trust you to set the mood,” you replied flirtatiously, silently reveling in the way that response seemed to make his brain short-circuit. 

Truthfully, the last thing you were thinking about was what record you wanted to listen to. It was awful, the way you had to turn around, pretend like the trinkets scattered throughout his room were the most interesting thing you’ve ever seen; the way you had to try to distract yourself from thinking about what Michael would taste like, what sounds he would make…

No, you weren’t going to do this. He invited you over for a nice dinner with his family, nothing more. 

After having been together officially for two months, you quickly discovered that Michael just wasn’t that kind of guy. Your dates–though always a good time–ended in a quick kiss on the cheek, or sometimes a peck on the lips, but nothing more. He was a gentleman, too much of one. Hand holding and hugging was fine for now, but gosh, a girl has needs.

John Coltrane’s A Love Supreme began to play, volume low enough to hear the soft hum of the vinyl spinning. The music took a layer of tension from the air, causing Michael to loosen up slightly.

He scratched his head as he talked, t-shirt lifting just enough to see the bare skin above his waistband. “Dinner should be done in about an hour. We could see what my brothers are doing, or go find some of the animals or– baby, what you doin’ with these still on?”

Michael grabbed your hand and gently led you over to his bed, urging you to sit down. Once sat, he crouched down at your feet and started to undo the straps of your heels.

“Michael,” you cooed. “You don’t have to do that. It’s fine, really.”

“Come on, I want you to be comfortable.”

After taking both shoes off and placing them neatly next to one another, he didn’t jump away like you were expecting him to. Instead, he continued the conversation from right there, fingers tracing delicate circles on the bumps of your ankles.

“So,” he continued, looking up at you with earnest eyes and a slight smile, “what sounds good to you?”

“Mikey,” you breathed out, rubbing your pedicured foot along his thigh. “Come up here.”

Still looking at you, he slowly set your feet on the ground and sat next to you, body completely turned your way. 

You whispered because it felt like if you spoke any louder the moment would shatter. “I don’t wanna do any of that. I, well…” you averted eye contact, feigning coyness for what you were about to say (but really, you couldn’t wait to make your move).

“What do you want, baby?” He took your hand in his and stroked his thumb across your knuckles.

“I wanna do this.”

You placed a hand on the side of his face, caressing it softly as you leaned in closer. You didn’t kiss him just yet. You wanted to take him in: the flush on his cheeks deeper than ever, his breathing shallow, his glowing skin in the dim, warm lighting.

And then you were kissing him. His lips immediately gave way to yours, opening and closing with the rhythm you had set. The smell of his cologne invaded your nostrils, fragrant as ever, encouraging you to kiss deeper, to let your hands roam.

Michael made a soft, surprised sound against your mouth, and his hand came up to rest hesitantly on your waist, fingers twitching like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to hold on tighter. You smiled into the kiss and slid your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck, tugging gently. That earned you another quiet noise from him, and the sound went straight through you.

Suddenly, he pulled back just enough for your lips to lose contact, but for the two of you to still be sharing the same breaths. His eyes were half-lidded, and his lips were already swollen and shining. The flush on his cheeks had spread down his neck.

“Baby,” he whispered, voice hoarse. “I– I don’t really know… I mean, what if I’m bad? Don’t want to disappoint you...”

“I know,” you murmured, brushing your thumb over his bottom lip. “That’s okay. Let me show you.”

You kissed him again, slower this time, coaxing his mouth open with your tongue. When you licked into his mouth he shivered hard, his grip on your waist finally tightening. You rewarded him by swinging one leg over his lap, straddling him carefully. The new position allowed you to feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest against yours and his fully hard erection pressing through his jeans.

Michael’s hands hovered at your hips, like if he touched them he’d immediately be reprimanded. You took one of them and guided it under the hem of your skirt, placing his palm flat against the warm skin of your thigh. 

“Touch me,” you whispered against his lips. “I want you to.” He exhaled shakily and let his hand explore higher, fingertips tracing the edge of your panties with reverent hesitation. You rocked gently against his lap, feeling him twitch through his jeans, and he broke the kiss with a quiet gasp, forehead dropping to your shoulder.

“Baby, you feel–” 

You kissed the side of his neck, then gently sucked on the spot just below his ear. Michael’s hips jerked up instinctively–the perfect friction for your growing arousal–and a low, broken sound escaped from his lips. His other hand slid up your back, fingers splaying across your spine, as if an attempt to hold onto something solid.

“It feels so good,” he whimpered before reconnecting your lips with his.

The kiss grew messier, more desperate. Michael was trying to match your rhythm, but his movements became uncoordinated and shaky. You kept rocking slowly against him, grinding down in a steady rhythm that caused that familiar heat to coil tighter low in your belly. 

His breathing was ragged now, little broken sounds spilling into your mouth with every exhale. The hand under your skirt gripped your thigh tighter, while the other pressed firmly against your back, pulling you closer. He was trembling beneath you.

“Michael…” you breathed his name like a praise, sucking lightly on his bottom lip.

He moaned helplessly, his hips stuttering up to meet yours. The friction was clearly overwhelming him. His fingers dug into your thigh almost too hard, and suddenly his whole body tensed. 

“W-wait, I–” his voice cracked.

Michael let out a choked groan as his hips jerked up sharply once, twice, then stilled. You felt the rhythmic pulses of his cock twitching hard against you through his jeans, the sudden wet heat spreading beneath the fabric as he came from the pressure of your body.

His face dropped straight into the crook of your neck, mortified. “Oh god, I’m so sorry,” he mumbled, voice muffled and thick with embarrassment. You could feel the heat radiating off his cheeks. “I didn’t– I couldn’t hold it. You’re so pretty and–”

You gently shushed him, threading your fingers through his curls and holding him close. Your other hand rubbed soothing circles on his back as his breathing slowly evened out.

“Look at me,” you coaxed softly.

When he finally lifted his head, his eyes were glassy and shy. You kissed him tenderly before pulling back with a small, warm smile.

“That was really hot, Michael,” you said gently, but matter-of-factly, brushing a thumb across his flushed cheek. “And don’t worry, it’s just the beginning.”

He let out a shaky breath, still half hidden against your neck. “You’re not mad?” You laughed softly and kissed the top of his head. “Baby, I love how much you want me. Now I get to show you how to make me feel good, too.”

You shifted back just enough to look at him, cupping his face in both hands. His eyes were wide and uncertain, but the hunger was definitely still there, simmering beneath the embarrassment. You took the hand that was gripping your thigh and slowly guided it higher, until his finger brushed over the damp fabric of your panties.

“Do you feel that?” you murmured against his lips. “That’s what you did to me.”

He exhaled sharply, fingertips trembling as they traced the soaked cotton. You rocked gently into his touch, encouraging him.

“Take them off for me,” you pleaded gently.

Michael nodded quickly, hooking his fingers under the waistband. You moved your legs so he could slide your panties down your thighs. Once they were off, you settled back onto his lap and took his hand again, bringing it between your legs. 

“Start slow,” you coached tentatively, pressing his fingers against your slick folds. “Feel me? Up and down like this.”

He followed your lead, his touch too light to really be doing anything for you, but the way his breath hitched when he felt how warm and wet you were made heat flare in your belly. You guided his middle finger to your entrance, letting it circle there.

“One finger first. Curl it a little…” Michael slid his finger in slowly, and the soft, surprised sound he made mirrored your own quiet moan. It went deeper than you expected. He was watching your face intently, learning every reaction. You moved your hips in small circles, chasing every bit of pleasure.

“Add another,” you told him, voice growing breathier. “And use your thumb here–” you guided his thumb to your clit, pressing it in gentle, steady circles.

“Like this?” he asked, voice hoarse. He curled his two fingers just right, stroking that sensitive spot inside you while his thumb worked your clit in the rhythm you’d shown him.  His free hand now gripped your hip, steadying you as you started to ride his fingers.

“Keep going,” you encouraged, grinding down onto his fingers. “You’re doing so good, baby.” He whimpered at the praise, pumping his fingers faster, thumb circling with more confidence. Your thighs started to tremble. You kissed him hard, tongues sliding together as the pressure built and finally broke over you in a warm, shuddering orgasm. You clenched around his fingers, moaning his name into your mouth.

When you came down, you kissed him softly, still rocking against his hand. His cock was fully hard again, straining against the wet spot on his jeans. 

“Wow,” he whispered, smiling. “That was… wow. You’re amazing, mama.”

You laughed breathlessly and cupped his flushed face.  “You did amazing. Now I want to feel you inside me.” You slid off his lap, lying back on the bed and pulling him with you. “Come here, baby. On top.”

Michael moved hesitantly, settling between your spread thighs. You helped him push his jeans and underwear further down his hips, his big, leaking cock springing free. You basically salivated at the sight.

He blushed at his manhood being on full display and carefully avoided looking into your eyes. His head hung low, staring at himself.

“Mikey? What’s wrong?”

A moment. “Do you have, uhm, a condom?”

“I’m on the pill. It’s okay, baby.”

“Ah. I just–” he started, choking on his words. “I’m nervous.”

“I want you so bad, Michael,” you begged, hoping to boost his ego a bit. “Take your shirt off. I want to see you.”

A glimmer of something–confidence, maybe?–filled his eyes before he took his shirt off with one hand, revealing his gorgeous toned and shining body. You could only think about how beautiful he was as he shyly leaned down to peck you on the lips.

You helped guide him to your hole, his tip resting slightly on your folds. Just that small point of contact was enough to send electric waves throughout your body.

“Go slow,” you reminded him, one hand on his hip, the other on the back of his neck. “Push in when you’re ready.”

He nodded, eyes locked on yours as he pressed forward. The thick head of his cock stretched you open, sinking in inch by inch. Michael’s mouth fell open in a silent moan, his whole body trembling with the effort of holding back.

“Oh my god…” he breathed, voice beautifully wrecked. “You’re squeezing me so tight. It feels– god, baby…”

When he bottomed out, hips flush against yours, he paused, buried to the hilt. You could feel every throb and twitch of his cock deep inside you. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer, and kissed him tenderly.

Trying to mask how bad your voice trembled, how bad you needed this, you said, “Come on, Michael. I’ve got you.”

His first thrust was careful and shallow, a test. The second was deeper, smoother, drawing a low groan from his throat as your pussy enveloped him completely. Soon he found a steady rhythm: long, rolling strokes that were slow enough to drive you crazy but deep enough to satisfy you. The rhythmic sound of his cock sliding in and out of you filled the room, mixed with his ragged breathing and your soft moans.

“So good–,” you gasped, nails lightly dragging down his back. “You feel so, so good–”

Michael whimpered at your words, his pace quickening. He braced himself on his forearms, caging you in as he fucked you harder. A few small coils stuck to his hairline, sweat glistening on his skin. One of his hands slid down to grip your thigh, spreading you wider so he could sink even deeper.

Every thrust dragged perfectly against that sensitive spot inside you. You reached between your bodies and rubbed your clit, the added stimulation making your moans louder. Michael’s eyes flicked down to watch where you were joined, mesmerized by the sight of his cock disappearing into you again and again.

“I can’t–,” he panted, voice strained. “‘M gonna–”

You urged, tightening your legs around him, “Come for me.”

That pushed him over the edge. With a broken cry he thrust deep and came hard, cock pulsing as he spilled inside you in thick, hot waves. The feeling of him coming so intensely sent you tumbling after him, your second orgasm crashing over you way stronger than the first, milking him for every drop.

Michael collapsed on top of you, careful not to crush you, his face buried in your neck as he panted through the aftershocks. Your fingers traced up his back and his coils, holding him close while his cock continued to twitch inside you.

After a long moment he lifted his head, eyes soft and adoring. “Was I good… for you?”

You smiled and kissed him gently. “You were perfect.”

He pulled out of you and flopped down by your side, breathing out a shaky sigh of relief and pleasure. “Should probably change my pants before we go down, huh?”

“You mean you don’t want your family to know that you came in your jeans?” You joked, giving him a loving peck on the cheek.

A big grin filled his face. “Hey! Come on, it just felt so....” he trailed off, burying his face into the mattress out of shyness.

“And to think, there’s so much more I have to show you.”