Feel All My Love Inside nsfw!
While watching you on the dance floor all night, Michael has the overwhelming urge to taste you.
Firelight nsfw!
After three long weeks without Michael, you tiptoe out of bed one night to find Michael stressed and worried, standing before the fire. He proceeds to show and tell you why he's so stressed.
A Night to Remember nsfw!
A long evening at the 1984 Grammy's reveals some insecurities of Michael's and leads to him begging for your forgiveness
☆⊹ ࣪ ˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ★ ⋆.˚ ⊹ ࣪
𝐇𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐞 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧
Film Yourself For Me nsfw!
Hobie comes to you with a pornographic proposal and you can't find it in yourself to say no
Not the Same Anymore nsfw!
You and Hobie have been friends for while, but clearly something has been brewing between you. One night, after needing a bit of patching up, these tensions finally boil over.
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Warnings: swearing, paparazzi harassment, age gap discourse, media pressure, chaotic behavior, protective reader, fluff/humor
Tags: michael jackson x reader, black reader, protective reader, chaotic reader, funny reader, media trained michael, public relationship, paparazzi, interview gone wrong, crack treated seriously, fluff, series potential, 90s michael jackson
Taglist: @simply-lovley44 @cocomilaa @blcknebula
inspired by this post @callmeoncette
The flashing cameras almost blinded you the second the two of you stepped out of the black SUV.
“Michael! Michael over here!”
“How long have you two been together?”
“Michael, is the relationship getting serious?”
“Y/N! Y/N!”
Michael’s hand tightened around yours immediately, thumb rubbing softly against your skin in that quiet way he always did whenever crowds got overwhelming.
“You okay?” he murmured softly.
You looked over at him in disbelief.
“Am I okay? Baby, are you okay? They yellin’ like zoo animals.”
Michael physically had to bite back a smile.
“Baby”
“No, because why are they barking at us?”
The interview host standing near the carpet entrance laughed awkwardly before quickly straightening up when Michael looked over.
Michael lowered his head slightly, curls falling near his face as he tried to compose himself.
“C’mon,” he whispered, gently guiding you forward.
The relationship had gone public barely three weeks ago, and the media had been losing their minds ever since.
Not because Michael Jackson had a girlfriend.
But because you were absolutely terrible at public relations.
You didn’t smile politely at rude questions.
You didn’t dodge disrespect.
And you definitely didn’t care about Hollywood etiquette.
Which explained why Michael’s publicist currently looked like she was five seconds away from cardiac arrest.
The interviewer smiled brightly as cameras zoomed in.
“It’s wonderful to have you both here tonight.”
“Thank you,” Michael answered sweetly.
You nodded. “Appreciate it.”
The interviewer turned toward Michael first.
“So Michael, your fans have been very curious about this relationship. It’s definitely surprised a lot of people.”
Michael smiled politely. Calm. Practiced.
“Well, I’m very happy,” he said gently. “She’s very special to me.”
Then the interviewer looked at you.
“And what’s it like dating the biggest star in the world?”
You shrugged.
“He steals my food.”
Michael looked scandalized.
“I do not steal your food.”
“Yes you do.”
“I ask for it.”
“You ask after it’s already halfway gone micheal.”
The interviewer laughed softly.
Michael covered part of his face, already embarrassed.
Then the interviewer made the mistake.
“So…” she started carefully, “there’s obviously been conversation online about your age and maturity level compared to Michael’s. Some people think you may not fully understand the pressure that comes with being with someone like him.”
Michael’s smile dropped instantly.
You felt his hand squeeze yours once.
Warning, begging even...
Please don’t.
“Uh,” Michael started softly, “I don’t really think...”
“And some critics,” the interviewer continued, “have questioned whether you’re prepared for this kind of public relationship.”
Michael inhaled slowly.
“Baby,” he whispered under his breath.
Too late.
You blinked at the woman.
“What kinda stupid-ass question is that?”
The entire audience and crew went silent.
Michael froze beside you.
The interviewer stared.
Cameras zoomed in on you so fast it was almost violent.
You frowned.
“No seriously. How are you qualified to have this job if that’s what you ask people?”
“baby” Michael whispered, horrified.
“I’m serious,” you continued. “Y’all get paid to be weird and disrespectful on television and then act shocked when somebody says something back.”
The interviewer looked absolutely stunned.
“Well, I...”
“And another thing,” you cut in. “Every interview this man does, somebody feels comfortable disrespecting him as long as they smile while doing it.”
Michael looked down at the floor, shoulders already shaking slightly.
“You ask rude questions, pry into his personal life, make slick comments, then try to hide behind professionalism when people call it out. It’s weird.”
The interviewer opened and closed her mouth for a second.
“And now suddenly I’m immature because I’m not sitting here pretending that question wasn’t rude?”
“Baby,” Michael mumbled weakly, “you can’t say that on television.”
“Yes I can.”
“No you can’t.”
“Yes I can and I will.”
“And honestly,” you continued, “half the interviews he does feel less like interviews and more like y’all trying to see how uncomfortable you can make him before he reacts.”
Michael physically turned away now, trying to hide the fact that he was laughing.
The interviewer awkwardly cleared her throat.
“S-So Michael… about the question I asked earlier...”
“What she said,” Michael answered immediately.
The interviewer stared at him in disbelief.
Michael finally looked back over at you with the brightest grin you’d seen all night.
--------
By the time the two of you finally made it inside the venue, the tension from the interview had completely shifted.
Mostly because Michael could not stop laughing.
“You embarrassed me,” he whispered as the two of you walked through the hallway toward the backstage area.
You looked at him incredulously.
“I embarrassed you?”
“Yes,” he said immediately, still smiling. “You attacked that poor woman.”
“She attacked you first.”
Michael shook his head, curls bouncing slightly.
“You called her stupid on live television.”
“I said the question was stupid.”
“That is not better.”
You crossed your arms dramatically.
“Well maybe she should stop asking dumb questions then.”
Michael tried to stay serious for about three seconds before another laugh escaped him.
“There you go again,” he mumbled.
“Oh, don’t do that,” you said, pointing at him. “Don’t act so pleased with me now after sitting there acting all shocked.”
“I was shocked!”
“You were laughing!”
“I was trying not to!”
You narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously.
“You liked it.”
Michael immediately looked away.
Which told you everything.
Your mouth dropped open.
“Oh my God, you DID like it.”
“I did not say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
Michael covered part of his face with one hand, already smiling again.
“You should’ve seen your publicist’s face,” you continued. “That lady looked like she was about to pass out.”
“She probably was.”
“Well maybe next time they’ll stop asking you weird questions.”
Michael slowed down slightly then.
The teasing expression on his face softened into something else, something softer.
Something genuine.
“You really don’t like when people disrespect me, huh?”
You looked at him like the answer should’ve been obvious.
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SUMMARY: An innocent movie night takes a turn when Michael becomes a little too distracted by your touch.
CONTENT: 18+, ???, sexual themes, kinda smutty I guess but nothing beyond a sloppy makeout sesh and heavy petting, very much puppy love vibes, inexperienced thriller era! Michael, subby michael I don’t make the rules, dry humping, he might be shy but that boy can’t keep his mouth shut! he’s a moaning mess
AUTHOR’S NOTE: @hcwait said something about michael being so shy he’d cover his mouth or bite his finger to keep from making noise and I said SAY LESS.
You didn’t even realize you were doing it— tracing gentle patterns into the denim right above Michael’s knee.
You were sat next to each other watching a movie with your limbs intertwined, and it’s like you didn’t even notice your thumb aimlessly rubbing against his leg— gliding across the rough surface of his jeans as your eyes stayed trained on the tv in front of you.
But he noticed. He noticed right away.
The second your hand fell on his knee his whole body froze.
It was motionless at first, just your palm resting gently on his leg. Then the stroking started. Your thumb moving in tender motions— back and forth— teetering dangerously toward the inside of his thigh.
It was so innocent, just a simple swipe of your fingers against his skin, not even his skin— his jeans. Only a sweet display of affection over clothing, yet it made him feel so excited.
He looked over at you— once, twice— checking to see if there was any slight change in your facial expression, any little shift in your body language that could lead him to think you were doing it on purpose. That maybe— just maybe—you were teasing him, just as hungry for more as he was.
His eyes fell down to his leg, your hand still resting above his knee, thumb still eroding away at the dark denim adorning his skin.
He wanted more. Needed more.
Without letting himself think about it, he placed a hand on your leg, allowing his palm to rest there, melting into the warmth of your thigh. He rubbed his thumb back and forth mimicking your movements.
It caught your attention immediately. It wasn’t like Michael to do something so bold.
The two of you had been taking things slow— really slow— respecting each other’s boundaries and getting to know one another in other, less physical, ways. You’d been patient, waiting for his signals, following his lead. Waiting for him to make all the first moves. His hand bravely perched on your thigh felt like some kind of long awaited approval. Like an invitation.
When you turned your head in his direction you expected to see him looking at you— waiting for your reaction. Instead, you were met with his side profile, his eyes fixed on the screen across the room, his hand still making gentle motions on your leg. He seemed calm, cool, collected.
But you could hear it— his quick shallow breaths— the way each exhale trembled as it left his lips.
He was nervous.
It was sweet.
You inched your hand up his leg ever so slightly, continuing to draw circles into his jeans.
Gently squeezing, you let your thumb slide lower toward the inside of his thigh. His body tensed. His chest filling with a single deep inhale as you watched him stare at your hand traveling recklessly close to his crotch.
His eyes shot up to meet yours, his flustered gaze hiding between the careful, slow blinks of his lashes.
Neither of you said a word. Neither of you looked away.
Your bodies were already so close together— his arm around your shoulder, your thighs smushed against each other— it made it impossibly easy to shift your weight until you were straddling his lap with each of your legs coming to rest on the sunken cushions beneath you.
A groan began to bubble from Michael’s chest at the sudden change of position. But the sound didn’t make it far, dissipating at the feeling of your body hovering over his.
You melted against him, hips colliding, causing him to choke on a whine as soon as he felt the friction.
“This ok?” The words left you in a whisper as you pressed your forehead against his.
As your hands found the curls at the nape of his neck, he nodded to your question before closing the gap between your lips.
His kiss was fueled by deliberation and impulse as his mouth moved with yours. His usual timid demeanor began to slip further away as your fingers tangled deeper into his curls, eliciting a soft whimper from his lips. Your hips moved against him at the sweet vibration of his moans on your tongue.
You kept the motion of your hips tame— just barely moving back in forth with the rhythm of the kiss, but your fingers moved wildly in Michael’s hair. Each gentle tug threatened a soft gasp from the man beneath you.
His hands stayed at his sides, fingertips scratching against his jeans— aching to hold you— to feel you.
You pulled away from his mouth long enough to utter a breathless invitation, “Michael. You can touch me.”
Meeting his lips again, you smiled into the kiss as you felt his hands come to rest on your body. His hold was tight on your hips, fingers pressing into your sides as he guided your body over his.
With both of you moving in tandem desperation for friction, you trailed your lips toward his jaw. Your mouth against his skin was wild and messy, mirroring the movement of your hips. Your lips were busy on his neck, kissing and sucking, and then-
The filthiest, most pathetic groan you’d ever heard slipped out of Michael’s mouth.
It was as if all the little noises he’d been fighting back were no match for the way your lips met that sensitive spot just under his jaw.
The sound only encouraged you, sending you on a desperate pursuit for more, but you noticed one of his hands leave your hips. It traveled up to his face, stopping at his mouth, acting as a muffle for the unruly sounds of pleasure seeping from his throat.
Your hips gyrated, the friction causing you both to grip and grab. Your fingers tangled into his hair and you could swear he was biting his palm to keep from groaning.
“You sound so pretty Michael.”
Your praise melted into his skin, each word fluttering against his neck, and as soon as it left your lips his hand was back on you, pulling at your hips.
A symphony of soft moans and instinctive whines filled the room as he let your flattery feed his liberation. No longer caring about keeping his cool or staying quiet, he set every noise free as he guided your body to grind onto his.
Your lips continued their descent on his neck, following a path to his collarbone. Meanwhile, his hands found their way to the hem of your t-shirt, gently pushing the material up just enough to feel the bare skin of your back. His touch was heavy yet tender, like he was starving but willing to wait an eternity just for a taste.
They traveled up your spine, savoring every inch of your soft skin under his fingers until-
The distant sound of a car door closing outside made you both jump.
His hands instinctively flew back to your hips as you pried your lips from his neck— both of your chests heaving and heads buzzing while you listened to the cackles of his brothers in the driveway.
So caught up in the heat of the moment, you’d forgotten all about his family and the fact that your time alone was limited.
The front door flew open, as voices traveled into the living room. You barely rolled off of michael, keeping a leg slung over his lap and a hand still in his hair as Tito and Marlon laughed their way into the kitchen.
“We could go upstairs…” Michael’s voice was quiet, each word soft and breathless, his chest still rising and falling at an ungodly pace.
“You don’t want to finish the movie?” Your question oozed with sarcasm as you watched Michael’s head dip in a giggle.
“C’mon.”
He was pulling you off the couch with a quick tug of your hand, both of you a mess of smitten glances and flustered chuckles as you practically raced each other up the stairs.
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Is firelight going to have a part 2 where the reader goes on tour w him 👀
the scary things about pt.2s is that they often don't live up to the first part. i wrote firelight in deadass one sitting because it just came to me 😅. a pt.2 would require brainpower that Firelight didn't need.
however, if the people speak....
Firelight pt.2?
Girl yes and don't ask anymore stupid questions
Um no the first one was trash why would we want a second...
Is firelight going to have a part 2 where the reader goes on tour w him 👀
the scary things about pt.2s is that they often don't live up to the first part. i wrote firelight in deadass one sitting because it just came to me 😅. a pt.2 would require brainpower that Firelight didn't need.
however, if the people speak....
Firelight pt.2?
Girl yes and don't ask anymore stupid questions
Um no the first one was trash why would we want a second...
HI THIS IS ME RESUBMITTING!! My req was MJ eating u out and finishing from the pleasure of pleasuring u <33 IM SO EXCITED
we found them 🙏
Feel All My Love Inside
After watching you on the dance floor all night, Michael has the overwhelming urge to taste you.
content- no use of y/n, Michael is infatuated with you, no-touch orgasm from MJ, overstimulation, Marvin Gaye trigger warning, reader has nastyy silk press ok!!, Bill Bray mentioned, fingering, i totally made Joey up, Michael creams his pants
word count: 2538
mildly proofread
songs in order:
Distant Lover- Marvin Gaye
Love to Love You Baby- Donna Summer
Pillow Talk- Sylvia
Feel All My Love Inside- Marvin Gaye
-
Michael was convinced he'd never seen anyone as beautiful as you.
Your body, which was swaying gently to the music, had captivated him in more ways than one. The dress you were wearing adorned your curves perfectly, accentuating your hips and thighs. Your skin, which was glistening with sweat, reflected the low lights above you, giving the illusion that you were practically sparkling. You let the music course through you, your friend's arms draped gently over your waist as you both swayed to the music. You turned in step with her, your arms wrapped around her shoulders while you moved as one. Your friend, a bit taller than you, leaned down to whisper something in your ear, and you laughed, a beautiful sound that Michael could hear all the way from his perch on the couch and a sound that he adored.
You knew he was watching you, he was convinced, because now and then you'd turn, shyly catching his eyes before turning away again. You were teasing him, and he knew it. But what an accusation to hurl. Anytime the beat of the music would go up, so would the tempo of your hips as you moved rhythmically across the dance floor. You had him in the grasp of your palm, and he was begging you not to let go.
Suddenly, the noise of his thoughts was interrupted by a firm, gruff voice. "You know, if you two weren't together, I'd think you were a predator trying to catch his prey."
Michael looked away from you, a task difficult for him, to see Joey, the club promoter, smiling down at him. Michael laughed nervously, taking a sip from his Coke. "Guess I can't help myself," He said nervously, chewing his lip. Joey slid down in the seat next to him, taking the untouched bottle of champagne from the bucket of ice and pouring himself a glass.
"Why don't you go dance with her?"
Michael took another long sip of his Coke, not really wanting to answer truthfully. 'Because I'd probably ruin my pants,' he wanted to say. He shrugged instead. "She seems to be having fun with her friend."
Joey hummed, taking a long sip of his own drink. He nearly finished and refilled it before speaking again. "I don't think those glances are for nothing."
Michael quirked an eyebrow at him, "Are you trying to be a wingman for my own girlfriend?"
"I'm just saying—"
"I know what you're saying. I just don't want her to feel like she has a bunch of eyes on her if I get up and dance with her."
"You think she cares about that?"
Michael was silent at his question, ignoring him for the sake of finishing his drink. You and Joey had been friends long before you and Michael had been together. It was how he'd met you, in fact, here at this very club. Back then, you were sweaty, your hair was frizzy, your makeup smeared, but you were so beautiful that Michael had chased you out of the club, begging for a chance to take you on a date. Now you were here.
"Distant lover, lover"
Marvin Gaye's voice boomed over the speakers, turning the vibe of the night to something slower, more sensual. The lights dimmed impossible lower, making the shadows of the ones on the floor dance across the walls. The air was humid, heavy with the smell of hairspray, alcohol, and cigarettes.
"Ooh, heaven knows that I long for you..."
At that moment, your friend was pulled aside by her date. Before departing, she landed a kiss on your cheek and then joined him at the bar. Joey kicked Michael's feet as you turned and made eye contact with him once more. "Go," He said, more like a command than a suggestion. Michael shot him a sideways glance before placing his can of Coke on the table in front of him. As he stood, he wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. Why was he nervous?
"Hi, baby," You spoke sensually into his ear as his slender arms came to wrap themselves around your waist. "Hey, beautiful." He responded, swaying you both to the sound of Marvin Gaye's voice.
"Now I gaze out my window
Sugar, down a lonesome road
Distant lover"
"I saw you watching me."
Michael let out a breath, feeling his heart hammer against his chest. You made him so nervous, even after all of this time. Even after so many years.
"I'm sorry," He whispered, hands trailing down so that his thumb could rub circles on the base of your back. Your hips moved with his, your feet keeping up with the small, slow steps despite the hours of dancing you'd committed yourself to tonight. "No need to apologize," You looked up at him, chin resting on his chest, "I like it when you watch me."
"You're hard not to stare at in this dress." He spoke boldly. You smiled, biting your glossed lips. "I could say the same for you." You ran your acrylic'd finger along his exposed chest. "Seems like someone wanted to be a little scandalous tonight."
Michael took in a shaky breath, looking away from your eyes. God, he was like a little boy with his first crush. His heart was beating so fast he thought he might pass out. Wasn't the honeymoon phase supposed to be over by now?
"Wanna go home?"
"Sugar, how can you treat my heart
So mean and cruel
Sugar, sugar..."
Michael had never been so eager to say yes. You wasted no time guiding both of you out of the club. You waved goodbye to Joey, who caught Michael's eye, giving him a wink. Michael swallowed, letting the night air engulf him as the last of Marvin Gaye's voice trailed behind him.
"Come back and hold me, girl
Oh baby
Please..."
Before he knew it, you and Michael were in the back of his car, his bodyguard, Bill, in the front seat, after closing you both in. Glancing in the rear view mirror, he smirked, shaking his head, before reaching for a button on the dashboard. "I'll just close the partition."
At Bill's words, your lips were on Michael's, the radio being turned up as Bill pulled onto the street, leisurely driving through L.A. County towards the Hayvenhurst house in Encino. Michael licked into your mouth, pulling you onto his lap, and gasping for breath as you ran your hands down his chest. He bunched your dress in his hands, slipping them underneath to wrap his cold fingers around your hips. You gasped, a chill running down your spine as your fingers made their way to his curls.
"Oh, baby." He breathed into you, clutching you as if you'd run away. You grinded down onto him, a move that made him so weak he had to pull away, squeezing his eyes shut as he buried himself in the crook of your neck. He wouldn't be able to last long, and you'd only just started.
As if on cue, Michael felt the familiar turn into the driveway of his home and looked out of the window to see the front door of the house. He didn't even give Bill time to open the door before he'd gently scooped you off his lap and out of the car.
"Enjoy your night." Bill laughed, lighting a cigarette as you and Michael rushed into the house.
It didn't take long for either of you to make it to the bedroom. In fact, your dress had been discarded on the way up the stairs, leaving you only in your underwear as Michael lay you on the bed. Quickly walking over to his cassette player, Michael slipped a tape in before pressing play and rushing back over to you. You were displayed so perfectly for him, with your freshly pressed hair loose and straight on your shoulder, though a little frizzy from the heat of the club. Your breasts, perfect and erect, tempted him as he fell between your legs, mouth capturing a nipple between his teeth, eliciting an erotic moan from your mouth.
"I love to love you, baby
I love to love you, baby
I love to love you, baby."
"Ah, M..." The nickname you'd given him landed gently on his ear as he adorned sloppy wet kisses to your breasts and midriff. You tangled your fingers in his hair, eyes closed from the immense pleasure that was coursing through your body. Though Michael was still nervous, he couldn't help the need to touch you, all of you. He wanted to fit the entire expanse of your perfect body in the palm of his hand, or at the very least, his mouth.
"Let me taste you, baby," He mumbled into your ear, kissing everywhere his lips could reach. You bit your lip, attempting to squeeze your legs together, but were blocked by his slim body between them. "I've been dancing..."
"When you're laying so close to me
There's no place I'd rather you be
Than with me here
Oh..."
"Don't care," Michael mumbled, grinding into you from his position on top.
"Do it to me again and again
You put me in such an awful spin
In a spin, in."
Before you could respond again, Michael had already begun to pull your underwear down and off your legs. He licked his lips hungrily, throwing the damp cloth to the side as his eyes fixated on your wet cunt. He watched you look away, seemingly shy, before he nestled himself between your legs, face to face with your clit. Then, he licked into you, and you mewled, an embarrassing sound escaping your legs. Michael closed his eyes in satisfaction, hooking his hands underneath your legs to bring you closer to him. He locked his fingers over the base of your stomach, trapping you beneath his hold while he ate you like a starved man.
Against your will, you began to grind your hips down, your head thrown back as Michael continued to lick into your cunt. Your moans and his own satisfied noises filled the duskily lit bedroom, Donna Summer's voice floating over your skin.
"Lay your head down real close to me,
Sooth my mind and set me free."
"M..." You whined, trying to push him away. He pulled away for a second, keeping one hand on your stomach as the other came down to tease your entrance. "I know, baby, I know. Just give me a few."
Your back arched off the bed as two of his slender fingers entered you. His lips reattached themselves to your clit, and you thrashed, or at least attempted to.
Michael was in bliss. Your sweet scent enthralled him, leaving him completely lightheaded as he lapped at you like you were his last meal. He loved it, and he loved you, and he wanted nothing more than to keep you trapped underneath him for eternity, just like this. Grinding down onto the mattress, he began to search for some type of friction. He was still fully clothed, not caring too much about his own pleasure because when you felt good, he felt good. But God, he couldn't help it. Not when those pretty whimpers were filling his ears and your hand had completely buried itself in your hair. And definitely not when you involuntarily pushed your hips into his mouth, making his job that much easier.
His fingers worked slowly and steadily to build up your climax. You were close, and he knew it, but he had no intention of stopping. He meant it when he said 'give me a few.'
Suddenly, the cassette clicked, a short silence ensued, and the song changed.
"Ay... ay... ay... yi!"
Michael smiled as the orgasmic moans of Sylvia filled the room.
"Hey, baby, let me stay
I don't care what your friends are 'bout to say, ah-ah
What your friends all say is fine
But it can't compete with this pillow talk of mine."
Again, Michael's mouth was on you, and you were moaning loudly. Your skin was so hot from arousal that you thought you might melt.
"Ooh, I don't wanna see you be no fool
What I'm teachin' you tonight, boy, you'll never learn it in school,"
It continued like that for what seemed like a long time. You came once, twice, three times before Michael even thought about giving you a break. "Please, M, I can't take any more," You whined, hands weakly going to his shoulder to push him away.
"You already said that," He mumbled, pushing your legs open further. Opening your eyes, you watched as Michael's other hand slithered down the mattress to his pants, and he moaned, the vibrations against your clit sending chills down your spine. Then, his hand was back at your pelvis, pushing you back down on the bed before you could escape his mouth. Michael was refusing to touch himself. He wanted you satisfied first; he wanted you to become completely undone on his tongue before he even thought about finishing.
But God, did he want to cum.
"Mike... I'm—" You began to push him away, your swollen clit trapped in his mouth. "Come on, baby, I got you. Just one more, baby."
The cassette player stopped, paused, and clicked, and your legs shook around his head, your back arching. His fingers slowed to a grueling pace inside of you, guiding you through your orgasm. "I can't," You sniffled, your body shaking with overwhelming pleasure.
"Now we're makin' love
Now we're makin' love
Now we're makin' love
Where'd you get such sweet sugar?"
"You can, you can." Michael's voice sounded strained, his eyes closed, and his brows furrowed. He kissed your inner thighs, small moans leaving his throat. Pleasure was building in the base of his stomach, he realized, and he knew at that moment he was done for. "Cum for me, baby, please, cum, just one more." He was a babbling fool at this point. You obeyed him, your legs locking over his shoulders as you came once more. At the same time, Michael bit down on the skin of your inner thigh, a groan falling from his lips when he felt you tighten on his fingers.
After a second of catching his breath, Michael slowly slipped his fingers from your cunt, licking the taste of you from his digits. You breathed heavily, watching him. As you sat up on your elbows, you reached for him, pulling him into a kiss and tasting yourself on his tongue. You reached for the button of his pants, and he stopped you, shyly pulling away from your lips. "What's wrong?" You asked. "Don't you want to..."
Michael blushed, covering the crotch of his pants with his hand. "No, it's okay," His voice was soft, embarrassed. You looked down, moving his hand away from his pants, and your face began to grow hot from seeing the wet spot there. "Oh, you're so cute." You smiled, catching his lips again. He whimpered into your mouth and pulled away, "It's not cute, its embarassing."
You pecked his lips, "Whatever you say, baby."
"I'm gonna be stroking you in and out
Up and down, all around
I love to hear you, baby
Make those sounds
I'm taking you here and there
And all around the world (all around, baby)
I love to hear you, girl
Make those sounds"
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
