XERNI!! :3

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 imagine pegging sub!jaafar cause you can't get enough of that juicy ass you ever so desired and you thought how corruptible he is like he needs some big cock to fuck his brains out.

like just the tip inside of that tight hole and he's already in shambles cause holy shit, like damn he knew you were big but not THAT big.

“a-aah..! fuck— babe baby i— your cock is s-so big— ahhnnngh..~ fuckfuck—!” jaafar whimpered, legs trembling so much cause gosh, you're so fucking big and you haven't even slide it all in yet, it was only the tip.

“shh... baby c'mon you can take it, i know you can..” you mumbled, you couldn't help but groan slightly because of how tight he is around your cock.

“oh god— you're so fucking tight around my cock, feeling so good in this tight hole of yours n-ngh...”

jaafar whimpered, tears running down his face– fuck he's too overstimulated already.

though, you grew a little more bolder as you finally slammed all of your cock in him– drawing a loud cry from jaafar from how fucking good your cock felt all in him.

“b-babe it's too much too much i-i— please... baby, you're making me feel so—so fucking good ngh!–” he whimpered pathetically under you, hiccuping slightly as you kept going.

“aw i know baby i know shh.. but i know you can adjust to this eventually.. i now you can 'cause you're my good puppy boy for me mmh-...”

you kept on thrusting him in and out, hitting that prostate area, your pace not too harsh but rough enough to make his eyes roll back. watching his back arched in pleasure as sweat drips on his chest.

“haah— m-mommy pwease— i wanna cum so much mommy— please I been a good-hic-boy for you— a good puppy boy please fuck—!” jaafar moaned softly as you couldn't help but feel your heart swell because oh how could you say no to those pretty doe eyes??

“aw poor baby... you wanna cum so much now huh? can't hold it any longer hm?” you taunted teasingly as you increased your pace a little more so.

“yesyesyesYES—! please mommy— oh please let me cum, i wanna cum now..!!” he whimpered, hiccuping pathetically as you eventually gave in— increasing your pace and getting deeper non-stop.

“such a good puppy boy aren't ya..~?” you whispered, leaning to his ear as your free hand gripped one of his buttlocks before spanking it firm enough but not too harshly to hurt.

“oh mommy please— keep going keep going! i'm your puppy! i swear im a good puppy yesyes—” he blabbed out, panting as he's close to his climax– his throat feels sore from moaning, back arched like a cat beneath you.

“fuckfuckfuck—mommy im coming im coming im coming—nnggGHH!” his thighs shook as white-hot pleasure shoots out like lightning bolts, he couldn't help but let out a loud, cry shamelessly as thick, hot strands of come splutters out on the bed and even on his stomach and yours too.

you loved the sight of him, his form trembling, panting as sweat clings on skin while trying to get a breath heavily.

you slowly pulled the strap out before removing it and tossing it away before cradling jaafar and laying beside him, your fingers brushing his dark curls comfortingly

poor baby is so exhausted from taking it so well, he deserves the best aftercare ever as he's been so good... (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

When you raised your head you found him, your husband wearing a burgundy corset, leather shorts that highlighted his fat, round ass and those platform boots that reached up to those fat thighs that tensed around your face when you licked that sweet flower.

Michael made you lift your head higher by touching your chin with the tip of the spanking crop. "You've been a really naughty boy these days. You know that daddy will make sure you know that, don't you know, dog?" After Michael spoke, he lifted one leg and stepped on your head until it was pressed against the floor. "Clean your master's boots" he said as he brought the boot to your mouth. You didn't hesitate to start licking and kissing those boots with complete admiration.

After a while Michael smiled sarcastically, grabbed your leash, and walked until he climbed onto the bed, and you were catching your breath after the collar's position had slightly choked you.

Michael didn't wait and slapped you across the cheek with that spanking crop top. "Your eyes on me. And don't you dare move your eyes." As the next thing he knew, Michael yanked on the belt. "And? What are you waiting for? Take off my boots."

After your master spoke, you reached for those tall boots and slowly pulled them down. As you revealed more and more skin of those beautiful legs, you began to feel your penis throb. You almost had an orgasm at the sight of Michael's bare feet, those feet that were so strong and resilient when he danced, those feet you admired, and you couldn't resist kissing those hard-working feet.

Michael let you kiss his feet and then pulled down your black boxers with them to start touching your dick with his cold feet.

"Ngh... Th-they are kinda cold." At that moment you felt a painful burning sensation and when you realized it, Michael had hit your penis with the spanking crop.

"Speak properly, naughty boy. I'm not just anyone for you to talk to me like that. I own you, make sure to remember that." When he finished speaking, he gave another light tap to your erect dick, which was starting to leak precum. "Woah... I couldn't imagine you are that desperate..." Michael laughed, then pulled the spanking crop away and began to caress your penis and balls with his feet.

"Ple-Pleasee... Masterrr I need to fuck youu-" You moaned close to the orgasm you were trying to hold back, which Michael noticed because of your rapid breathing that betrayed you.

"Nuh uh baby. I didn't give you permission to cum yet." To start mocking you even more, he began to masturbate you with his feet more quickly, using the pre-cum as a lubricant.

"Nghh... Fuckfuck oh god Pleeeaseee Master- I need to cum- Oh fuck-" Your eyes were now wet thanks to the incredible stimulation on your penis and balls with those soft pieces. When you were about to orgasm, Michael pulled his pieces away and took off his leather shorts, letting you see that hairy, wet pussy that made you drool.

"Come on, dog. Come and eat your prize, you are being a good boy." That wet pussy was waiting for you, you could see it clearly when you saw Michael with his legs open. You approached on all fours, and when you were close enough you began to lick your owner's entrance while rubbing that tdick with your nose.

"Oh yeah- Mmm, you are such a good boy for your daddy!" You watched as your owner began to close his legs around your head, feeling those stretchy thighs that drove you wild. Soon he would guide your fingers to that entrance to begin giving licks and strokes to your master's tdick.

"Oh fuck! Yes! Yes! Just like that!" Now he was pulling hard on your hair while rubbing his vulva against your face. When you reacted and understood that you were about to bring him to orgasm, you moved your fingers faster until he screamed and brought him to that orgasm while he suffocated you with his vulva and thighs. When Michael calmed down from his orgasm, he pulled on the leash so you could get on the bed on all fours.

"You are now learning how to act for your master, you are such a good dog! Now... reclaim your award." A kiss landed on one of your cheeks, and then that same owner of those plump lips allowed you to settle between his legs.

You prepared your still erect penis, masturbating it a little and rubbing it against Michael's entrance. When you finally felt ready, you began to enter slowly, as that sweet man deserved. "Agh... Gimme more- be more rude-" He groaned as he clung to your back and began to scratch it.

You had no choice but to obey; after all, he was your master. You grabbed his hips and began to fuck him as he commanded, alternating movements and intensity until you identified which one elicited the most moans from him. Once you found it, you didn't stop moving.  

Michael could no longer speak of pleasure, he could only open his legs wider and open his mouth without making a sound thanks to the overstimulation of his fat pussy.

Your orgasm was near. The stimulation after holding back your orgasm, with the man you loved squeezing you inside, wouldn't let you rest. So you finally reached orgasm after lowering his corset and pinching his nipples. With that small but firm squeeze, he too reached orgasm.

It begins with a scarf. It's a lovely scarf; maroon and soft and dotted with little white flowers. Michael lets the fabric cinch and bunch up around his fingers. One of his staff wordlessly handed him the box he'd pulled it out of, eyes widening at something so simple. It's delicate and Michael can't help the way he brings it up to his cheek to rub it against the side of his face like he's a cat, head butting against the pant leg of its owner. And the way the scent hits him—it's all at once. The cologne is faint, perhaps too faint to even be barely noticeable but the moment Michael recognized it he continued pushing his face into the fabric, eyes now closed, grabbing the fabric tightly and subsequently placing it in the back of one of his many closets once he realized how enthralled he had become.

Then it's a cat—a kitten, actually. Janet is beaming as she gently hands the tiny thing to him, gesturing to the small note carefully folded underneath the collar around its neck. Michael places the kitten down to quickly read it.

A sign of good luck.

Michael picked the kitten back up to examine her. She's a calico, her eyes are a brilliant blue and she squirms in his hold. Michael can only blink in disbelief, immediately knowing who had given her to him. He isn't upset. He could use the company. He names her Patches.

Two weeks later it's a bouquet of flowers and the next month it's a bottle of white wine.

Michael is stunned. To his staff, it's nothing. To them, it's simply fan mail. But to Michael, it's someone from the past. A friend? He likes to think so.

He furrows his eyebrows.

A lover?

His teeth worry into his bottom lip. He hopes not. Michael is stuck between a limbo of lies and the window of truth.

****

He's forgotten about it. But not really. It's stuck there, in the back of his mind. He hugs Janet as he walks on stage; the Grammys are complicated for him, but he doesn't worry about it. He can feel the sparkle of his ivory coat glint in the corner of his eyes, pearls shimmering underneath harsh lighting. Even through the tears, the yells, the hollers of I love you, Michael cannot shake the fact that the world turns its back on him. It's confusing. He thinks of the gifts he received—almost as if he's being courted. How silly, he thinks, the award clutched tightly between his fingers.

He sees Him in the crowd as his speech comes to a close and tries not to make it obvious that he's panicking.

He doesn't have the energy to stay longer but academy voters keep him occupied and Michael is not so discreetly taking flutes of champagne from platters that waiters carry around, drowning out the unnecessary chatter people he wishes to never associate with again bother him with.

Eyes tell a lot. Their eyes only hold malice and judgement and Michael has truly had enough as he feels his body start to sway slightly. He excuses himself with a nod before stumbling off. The venue is huge—too big and Michael blinks and suddenly he's in a hallway. The lights are slightly less harsh but not by much. A gloved hand presses against the wall for balance. Even through the sorrow that he seems to drown in… he giggles.

So silly, it all really is so silly.

Someone passes him by. Michael pays them no mind until they go frigid and for a split second, he sobers up.

"Michael?"

The man's voice is like molasses, like honey dipped in a dream. Michael takes in a breath and then stumbles as he breathes out a giggle. He seems to quickly catch on, cautiously approaching and steadying Michael by his arm.

"What're you doing here?" Michael hums. He's not totally drunk, just tipsy, but everything feels different.

"I could ask you the same thing. But I'm not going to. Come on, your team is probably worried." The man sighs, slowly turning him around, trying to lead him back the other way.

Michael stumbles over his feet, clinging on to Him and laughing out apologies, not understanding why He suddenly freezes at his touch.

There's something intimate about it all. The way He lets him lean against the wall as nausea takes ahold of him or the way he guides his water bottle to his lips to hydrate him. It's soft, it's safe.

Michael can't do this. He's a little more coherent now as he stops and turns to look up at the man with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. The man may known him better than anyone, inside and out. And he's unsure. About everything.

He gets on his toes just slightly. The man has always been tall. Michael pecks his cheek. It's small, ephemeral, it's nothing, he tells himself. "I'll see you later." he whispers before walking forward, feeling dread overcome him.

And then a hand, no, fingers wrap themselves around his wrist and Michael yelps as he's turned around, eyes blown wide at the look of desperation and despair in the man's own gaze.

"Michael." He says flatly.

They stand like that, in each others gaze, for what seems like days until the man slowly, slowly sinks down to his knees, arms coming to wrap around his waist. He feels him nuzzle into the fabric of his shirt, lifting it just slightly, exposing his belly button.

Michael starts to tremble. His tongue his lax and his mouth is suddenly a desert.

He keeps blinking. His fists are clenched.

And then the man speaks and his words terrify him.

"You're gorgeous," he sighs. "The prettiest fucking thing ever."

Lips press against his tummy, placing a kiss to the skin. "You're kind, you know? The type of kind you don't really see no more. Your love for children, your need to protect and nurture. God…"

He keeps going and Michael—

"Stop. Stop. Please, stop."

The man looks up at him, terrified, like he's done something wrong.

He hasn't. And that's the problem.

The man's grip loosens for a moment and Michael runs. He feels the sting of tears start to well up. The hallways are like a labyrinth, one turn leads to another hallway. Michael doesn't care he's lost he's just—he can't—he—

"Michael! Please, wait!"

And He's is chasing after him.

Michael is turned to face him once more, their lips a whisper away from one another. The man speaks up. "I'm serious. I just… I can't believe you're real."

And the man is holding him again. Michael squirms, begging, pleading for him to let go to leave him alone, to…

"You're ethereal."

"You don't have to lie to me." Michael says through the tears that finally start to fall. He wishes he had his sunglasses. The way He stares at him. It's too much.

"Why would I lie?" He whispers, their foreheads pressed together.

Michael is back into the wall, trembling like a leaf in a hurricane, purely from his gaze and words. The man lifts his chin and Michael takes a leap of faith as he pulls Him down by his collar to connect their lips. A gloved hand comes up to caress his lover's cheek, feeling the man's arm wrap around and push their bodies closer together.

It's slow. "I've got you." his love repeats it like a mantra between the slow kisses he trails down the front of his neck, over his adam's apple and over his collarbones that expose themselves from atop his v-neck. Michael shrugs off the coat, letting it crumble to the floor, uncaring.

They kiss again. Michael lets Him remove his gloves from his hands, fingers tingling as they're exposed to the cool air. He lets his love turn him until his chest his flush against the wall, feeling him kiss over his shoulder, hands feeling him up. He still feels stray tears escape his eyes.

His love kisses his ear lobe, "Is this okay?"

Michael nods, letting him help him out of his jeans and boots. Michael should care. They're in an unknown hallway at the Grammy awards, there could be cameras… but it's lost on him. And it always will be, he decides.

His love's slick fingers circle his rim, his lips remaining by his ear, whispering praises and asking if he's alright. Michael gasps at the first breach of his fingers inside of him. He rolls his hips, feeling his own cock harden between his legs.

"Does that feel good?"

Michael nods.

Michael's breath hitches, eyes closed in ecstasy, just from his fingers alone as they pump in and out and gently scissor him open. His love slowly lifts Michael's leg to get a better angle, humming at the way Michael's back arches, gasping out his name and throwing his head back.

And then the fingers are gone and quickly replaced with the blunt tip of his love's cock. Michael whines at the first breach, only soothed by his soft words in his ear. His lover bottoms out, and then he's moving his hips. Slowly, passionately. It's like dancing.

Michael braces both of his hands against the wall, arching his back at the pleasure that rushes through him. His lover intertwines their fingers. They'll be here for a while. They've got time.

His date for the night is a tall man with glowing skin and eyes sharper than a blade. They were supposed to go to the movies, but given this sudden turn, it seems like they won’t be doing anything at all. They’re stranded in the middle of the road; a forest lies beside them, and Michael gets the feeling that something is about to attack them.

“I thought you said the car had enough gas,” his date notes, without malice. His voice is velvety, the words flowing effortlessly, as if they weren’t effectively lost.

“I thought so,” Michael repeats sheepishly. “I’m sorry, I checked it; I don’t know why this happened.”

“Don’t worry about it,” the man assures him.

He stares at Michael: he’s fidgeting with his slender fingers in his lap, his big eyes darting in every direction. Being in the middle of nowhere clearly makes him anxious; there isn’t a soul around, it’s dark, and in the distance, faint sounds of an animal running through the trees can be heard, which seems to alarm Michael. He licks his lips.

“Are you scared, Michael?” he asks in a murmur, though no one else can hear.

His lips tremble before he answers. “No… it’s not that,” he lies, offering a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “It’s just… I’m thinking about how we can get out of this.”

His date lets out a low laugh, revealing a flash of white teeth. He doesn’t believe a word of it, but he loves watching Michael try to maintain his composure. He leans a little closer, his fingers reaching out to the denim of the boy’s jeans and gently stroking his thigh.

The caress and his date’s dark gaze make his heart race; the intensity of it leaves him feeling exposed, as if the other man knows exactly what is running through his fearful mind.

“Yeah?” he asks in a tone that makes the hair on Michael’s arms stand up. “And what do you have in mind, hm?”

Before Michael can process the question, a loud, sharp crack echoes from deep within the woods. He jumps in his seat, lets out a stifled gasp, and—purely on instinct—clutches his date’s arm, digging his fingernails into the fabric of the jacket.

His grip is tight, almost painful, but his date doesn’t flinch; instead, a spark of fascination gleams in his eyes. He can feel the uncontrollable trembling and almost hears the wild pounding of his heart in the heavy silence.

“Relax…” he murmurs, taking a trembling hand and cupping it between his own; he brings the knuckles to his lips and plants a soft kiss. “It was surely just a branch, you’re safe with me.”

Michael swallows hard, feeling the warmth of his date’s lips against his skin; the gesture, while comforting, only made his pulse race faster. There’s something about this man’s calmness that feels overwhelming, though he tries to tell himself it’s simply because they are alone in this dreadful place.

“Safe?” Michael repeats, trying to steady his breathing. He glances toward the darkness, where the silhouettes of tree branches seem to take the shape of claws. “We don’t know here, maybe it was a wild wolf or… or something worse.”

A silent laugh catches in his date’s chest; he finds Michael’s paranoia delightful to witness—it’s adorable. He interlaces his fingers with Michael’s and strokes the back of his hand with his thumb.

“What could be worse than a wolf? A generic horror movie monster?” he whispers with amusement, tilting his head. The moonlight accentuates his dark complexion, and his irises seem to sharpen.

Michael falls silent for a moment before frowning slightly. “Stop making fun; I’m serious. This place is really strange, we should’ve left before.”

The man breaks the hand-holding to cradle Michael’s face, forcing him to meet his gaze. His thumb slowly traces a defined cheekbone. Michael holds his breath, mesmerized by those deep irises and the heat radiating from the man’s hands, a stark contrast to the freezing night air.

“I’m not making fun of you, angel,” he murmurs, his voice dropping an octave. “It’s just… it’s fascinating how your imagination runs wild.”

“It’s not my imagination, it’s—”

“Shh…” the other man hushes him gently, grazing his lower lip with the pad of his thumb. “Just… focus on me, okay, angel?”

Michael freezes; the touch against his lip feels like a small electric shock. He tries to find a hint of mockery in his date’s face but finds only an absolute attentiveness that overwhelms him even more. He watches his gaze drop to his lips, with an expression he can only describe as hunger, before locking back onto his eyes.

“Y-you’re making me nervous,” Michael confesses in a whisper, even as he leans subtly into that warm touch.

“Really?” the other man replies flirtatiously, tracing his lip again. “I thought the forest was the problem…?”

“You’re worse than the forest,” Michael accuses playfully, yet his date’s dark eyes gleam as if he’s hit the mark.

The man simply smiles slyly and brings his face close to Michael’s, never letting go of him.

“Come here,” he whispers.

He presses his lips against Michael’s and begins to move them slowly. Michael lets out a low moan at the temperature; his date’s lips feel peculiarly hot, not warm, but hot—in an unnatural way, especially considering they’ve been exposed to the cold air for so long. His mind tries to process this thermal anomaly, but the demanding nature of the kiss sweeps away his thoughts.

A searing heat spreads through his mouth, melting away the tension in his body; his hands, previously rigid, move timidly upward, long fingers tracing the texture of his date’s jacket before tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck, seeking something tangible to cling to, a distraction from the cloud of panic that had been gathering in his mind since they arrived.

His date lets out a low growl that vibrates directly against Michael’s mouth, sending a shiver through him; it isn’t an entirely human sound—it reminds him of David Kessler’s growls in An American Werewolf in London, stirring a fresh wave of unease. Before he can pull away, one of the man’s firm hands shifts to his dark curls and squeezes with immense force, the grip feeling heavy against his head.

Michael stifles a gasp of pain and surprise. The kiss turns ravenous, teetering on the edge between desire and subtle aggression; the taste of danger floods his senses, mingling with the stifling heat that seems to radiate directly from the other man’s chest.

The separation is languid. A thin thread of saliva connects them before snapping. Michael is breathless, his chest heaving; his wide, startled eyes, shining with the intensity of the moment, search for his date’s face in the darkness. His lips are swollen and his head is spinning.

“Y-you…” Michael rasps, his fingers still loosely tangled in the other’s neck. “You kiss really roughly… it hurt a bit.”

The man licks his lips with feline slowness, savoring the trace Michael had left on them. His pupils appear strangely dilated in the moonlight.

“I’m sorry, angel,” he murmurs, though his tone lacks any real remorse. His hand slides down from Michael’s curls to his neck, where the carotid pulse is hammering frantically against the skin. A shiver runs down Michael’s spine; his date’s fingers aren’t just warm, they burn with an almost feverish heat. “You’re racing so fast, Michael… I’m starting to think you’re afraid of me.”

“I’m not,” Michael says abruptly, though his voice cracks. He starts to pull his hands away from the man’s neck. “It’s just… you’re acting really strange. You have a fever.”

His date’s smile widens, an expression that was once seductive now twisting into something predatory.

“A fever?” he repeats, the word sounding like a taunt. “It’s not a fever, angel. It’s hunger.”

Michael’s eyes widen in horror, and a scream tears through the air.

The man stuffs a handful of buttery popcorn into his mouth and chews. What a bore; there are suspense movies scarier than this. He glances at Michael, the boy is utterly engrossed, eating his own snack with enthusiasm. He knows Michael loves horror movies, but this one doesn’t have a shred of it.

“Are you actually enjoying this?” he whispers into his ear. “Cujo is in the other room, we should’ve picked that one, it’s a re-release.”

Michael stops chewing for a moment and looks at him with a hint of annoyance. “Stop being such a killjoy. You just don’t have an eye for horror like I do.”

He stifles a laugh, stretching his long legs out into the narrow space between the seats. “Oh, please, Michael, that monster looks so fake; it looks like plastic. Besides, nobody runs out of gas so conveniently.”

“Stop complaining,” Michael scolds in an indignant whisper. He settles more comfortably into his seat and leans closer to his date’s shoulder. “Anyway, admit it, you got scared during the forest scene.”

“The only thing that scared me was the price of the popcorn,” he replies mischievously. “But if you like suspense so much… I can give you a better demonstration once we leave.”

Michael arches a slender eyebrow, his hand pausing halfway into the bucket. “Oh, really? You’re going to scare me in the parking lot?”

“Maybe,” he murmurs, moving close enough for his breath to brush against the other’s cheek. “I could bite your neck like the guy in the screen, only your ending would be a little different…”

A pink flush tints Michael’s cheeks, he shifts slightly away and gives the other man a playful shove on the shoulder.

“You’re terrible,” he whispers with a soft chuckle, turning his gaze back to the screen just as the music swells. He slides his free hand along the armrest until his long fingers find his date’s, shyly interlacing them. “Hush now, the best part is coming up.”

The man smirks, tightening his grip on their joined hands. Once again, the theater fills with piercing screams.

The door slammed behind you as you dropped your bag on the floor, scrubbing your hands over your face and through your hair with a sigh.

Today had not been a good day.

You were a model and you've been in the model industry for a long time. By this point you're used to a lot of the bullshit that can come along with it but no matter what, bad days are unavoidable.

Today you had ended up with one of those photographers who had such high expectations no one could meet them. The kind who berated and insulted you if you couldn't meet their demands. Who made you feel like you couldn't do anything right.

The first few hours you had ignored it. It wasn't your first time dealing with a photographer like this.

But the shoot had been long especially because the photographer wasn't happy with anything, meaning you basically had to redo every shot.

So eventually it caught up to you, getting in your head.

The shoot ended up going two hours over when it was supposed to end, meaning you were rushed to your next appointments.

The day had ended in a whirlwind and you just felt so dejected and exhausted.

You wished you could just forget the day.

Toeing off your shoes, you went to the bedroom you shared with your husband, Michael. The house was quiet, the lighting low as it was later in the night. He wasn't in there but you quickly changed your clothes, eager to get out of the uncomfortable clothes you were wearing.

Quietly walking through the house, you headed to the studio, know that was likely where he was.

The door was closed so you opened it quietly in case he was recording.

You found him sitting at the desk. He was wearing a black shirt and some comfortable pants, his long black hair in a loose, low ponytail. There were papers scattered around and the soft sound of a pen scratching as he wrote something down. His wedding band glinting in the low light and your heart felt warm seeing it.

You smiled when you saw he was wearing his glasses. It was something he was embarrassed about, that he had to use glasses now but you found them adorable... and maybe a little sexy too.

He glanced up at the sound of the door and smiled when he saw you. "Welcome home baby." He said.

You smiled back, though it was smaller and more tired than usual as you closed the door behind you, walking over to sit in the chair besides him.

He frowned slightly, taking your hand in his. "Rough day?" He asked.

You sighed. "Yeah something like that."

"Wanna talk about it?" He asked, setting his pen down and putting his whole attention to you.

You shrugged. "Just one of those photographers who has such high demands that nothing you do is right."

He made a disgruntled face, kissing your hand. "I'm sorry baby. That's nothing on you, those photographers are just jealous that you're so amazing."

You smile softly, rolling your eyes. "Yeah, yeah." You sighed. "Most of the time I don't care but the shoot was so long today that it did start to get to me and now I just wanna forget the whole day... I just feel like I can't do anything right today."

Your eyes prickled slightly with tears as your frustration with the day welled up.

Michael frowned even more, pulling you closer and running a hand through your hair. "None of that darling. I know you were doing everything perfectly. Photographers like that will never be pleased no matter what you do." He kissed your forehead. "You're still so amazing and wonderful and so good at what you do."

You smiled softly, wiping at your eyes. "Thank you."

He hugged you, kissing your forehead again.

However you still were struggling to get past the frustration and feeling like you couldn't do anything right and you knew Michael could tell because he was still studying you.

He asked a bit hesitantly. "Maybe you might wanna be good for me? Help you get out of your head?"

It was purely a suggestion. You knew Michael wouldn't be upset if you said no but that he felt it might help you get out of your head.

And he was right because that sounded absolutely perfect now. To sink down into the warm fuzziness of subspace. To not have to worry about a single thing except for pleasing Michael.

"Yes." You said almost desperately.

He smiled. "Good." But then he looked down at the stack of papers in front of him and sighed a bit, scratching his eyebrow. His eyes glanced around the room for a moment, thinking.

"I do have to finish this work." He sighed and you deflated a little but he was quick to reassure you.

"Don't worry your pretty little head sweet boy. I was thinking you could keep me warm while I finish up." He smirked at you.

Instantly understanding what he meant you nodded your head eagerly.

He raised his eyebrow. "I need words please." His voice went into that soft but firm tone he used when domming and you already felt your brain melt a little at it.

"Yes sir. Please sir." You replied.

He smiled. "So polite." He kissed your forehead then looked at the couch that was across the room.

"I want you to grab one of those pillows. Bring it over here and use it to cushion your knees so you can kneel by my feet."

"Yes sir." You quickly went over and grabbed one of the pillows on the couch then came back, setting it down by his feet and then kneeling.

There were times when you wouldn't be as obedient, bratting slightly, seeing how far you could push because while Michael was a very gentle dom he was still firm and sometimes liked putting you in your place.

However tonight all you wanted was to be good. To please him. To not have to worry about a single thing but making your dom happy.

"Good boy." He praised. "Now I'd like for you to unbutton my pants and take my cock out."

You did as he asked, unbuttoning his pants and slightly pulling them down so you could pull out his cock.

You looked up at him, awaiting further instruction and he smiled, running a hand through your hair.

"Good job waiting for my instructions. Now I want you to put my cock in your mouth and keep me warm while I work. I want you to drift sweet boy, just let your mind rest. You don't need to worry about anything, I have everything under control." His voice was low, soothing and firm. You felt the warm fuzziness of subspace creeping over you.

"Yes sir." You said softly before taking his cock in your mouth, finding a comfortable position.

You heard his breath catch in his throat a little, unable to remain completely unaffected but he still stayed calm, waiting until you fully settled.

"Good. Now just drift sweetheart." He said, still running a hand through your hair and you closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of being so close to him and the heavy weight of him in your mouth.

You let the warm fuzziness of subspace fully envelope you. You barely paid any mind to what was going on. The room was quiet besides the sound of Michael writing and papers rustling.

Every now and then Michael would run his hands through your hair, whispering words of praise.

All the stress from the day melted away.

Some of the exhaustion from the day creeped up on you so soon you were half dozing, half floating in subspace.

You don't even know how much time passed before you heard a soft chuckle.

"Did you fall asleep sweet boy?" Michael asked, his voice fond.

You opened your eyes, blinking slightly as you adjusted to the light again and pulled away a bit, his cock falling out of your mouth.

He smiled softly. "Oh you're gone." He said, stroking your cheek.

You nuzzled against his hand, not saying anything as words were a little hard when you were so deep in subspace.

"Maybe we should go to bed hmm?" He asked but you shook your head.

He raised an eyebrow. "No? But you seem so exhausted."

"Wanna make sir feel good." You said as he was still hard. "Wanna please sir."

He smiled. "You've already pleased me. You've been perfect tonight. So considerate." He stroked your jaw. "Your jaw doesn't hurt does it?" He asked.

You shook your head. It was a little sore from being in the same position for a while but it didn't hurt.

"Good. Well if my sweet boy wants to make me feel good then he's allowed to."

You smiled, taking Michael's cock back in your mouth.

By this point you two have been married for years so you know every little thing that makes him tick and how to get him to come quickly so you use that knowledge to your advantage.

It isn't long before he's breathing heavier and letting out little moans, whimpering occasionally.

He was more affected than he let on because soon he was coming, letting out a loud moan.

You quickly swallow, not pulling away until he's fully come down, his cheeks flushed and breathing uneven.

You pull back and he pulls you into a kiss.

"You're so perfect." He says and you smile into the kiss.

You two kiss for a bit, soft and loving.

He finally pulls back. "I think my sweet boy deserves a reward for how good he's been tonight. Doing everything I've asked, making me feel good." He praises.

That's when you realize you're hard. You knew you were turned on but it was more a simmering heat, just enjoying being close to your husband and letting him help you forget how bad your day had been.

He grabs a tissue, cleaning himself up before tucking himself back into his pants and then gesturing for you to sit on his lap.

You stand up, wincing slightly after kneeling for so long. You stretch your legs slightly before sitting on his lap.

He smiles, kissing your cheek before helping you tug down your pants so they rest on your legs. He opens one of his drawers, grabbing a bottle of lube.

He puts some on his fingers, warming it up between his hands before his hand wraps around your hard length.

You gasp slightly, letting out a soft moan.

He starts pressing kisses to your neck as he strokes you, finding the sensitive parts of your neck.

You moan, melting into him and you slightly rock into his hand.

It isn't long before he speeds up his hand, nipping at your neck and you let out a loud moan, holding onto him.

Soon you're falling apart, letting out moans and whimpers as you come onto his hand.

"So good." He praises you as he strokes you through your orgasm, pulling his hand away when you start to whine from overstimualtion. He grabs another tissue, cleaning his hand.

You bury your face in his shoulder, panting slightly.

"You were such a good boy tonight. My sweet boy." He praises you, stroking your arm.

"Thank you sir." You cuddle into him a bit.

He smiles, grabbing the bottle of water he had resting besides him and having you drink from it.

"Are you feeling better?" He asks.

You nodded. "Thank you. I really just needed to get out of my head."

"Of course baby. I'm always happy to take care of you and you make it so easy." He kisses you.

He liked when you called him angel face; it made him nervous, shy, but he ultimately liked it. 

He didn’t know what exactly he liked so much about the nickname; maybe it was the fact that you picked it for him, or maybe simply that it meant that you found him pretty. Or maybe, and he was sure this was a big one,  because if you considered him an angel, it showed that he did not fail at being a gentleman for you.

“Stop…”

You smiled hearing his complaint. He was so cute.

“Stop what, Mikey? Taking the pictures? Complimenting you?”

"Both," he said immediately.

He paused for a bit, and added cheekily to his previous statement.

"Well...maybe not the second one."

He brought his hands to his face, trying to hide away from you and stopping you from taking another picture. 

"You're impossible," he muttered, peeking at you through the gaps between his fingers.

The smile he was trying so hard to hide only made him look guiltier.

You looked at him tenderly and pondered a bit. You had an idea, as devilish as it was. It would probably fluster the poor Michael.

“Baby, do you wanna do somethin’ for me?”

He looked up at you again, a bit confused but ultimately eager to please you.

“Sure…what is it?”

A sly smile took over your face. You looked him up and down, and in a velvety voice whispered to him.

“Take your top off.”

Michael’s cheeks turned bright red, and he almost let out a plea in utter shock. He looked around to see if anyone had heard you even though he knew no one was home. It wasn’t his first time taking his T-shirt in front of you, but it was the first time that you asked him so boldly to do it, and especially with the camera in your hand pointed directly at him

“What? But we…”

“Don’t be so dirty minded now, I just want to take pictures. If they turn out great, you could use them for an album or something.”

He pressed his lips together, kind of ashamed to think you wanted something else, that you wanted him. Of course you would be thinking about his career. You are so thoughtful after all, so great to him, so loving.

“Oh, right. Right, hum…okay” he looked around a bit, and added in faux confidence “Of course.”

He awkwardly got rid of his T-shirt, taking his time before getting it over his head. Not because he wanted to tease you, but more so because he felt vulnerable getting rid of the barrier of his clothing. When he was done and discarded the shirt on the side, he took a peak at you. You looked…hungry. Hungry for what, he had a hint, but after his bold guess earlier he preferred to stay quiet.

“Ok. Can you pose like that sweetheart? Maybe pick up your shirt and act as if you’re getting it on again…but not completely. Okay, just like that.”

"Lemme see."

You showed him.

"No, delete that one."

"Why?"

"Look at my face."

"Michael, that's just your face."

He looked over the picture again and grimaced.

“It’s terrible.”

This went on for a few more minutes, him following your directions, asking for retakes, and you reveling in the moment. He looked so cute, his chocolate skin shining like gold under the warm lights of his bedroom. A thin layer of sweat was coating his gently sculpted torso and his forehead, sticking some strands of hair to his face.

Eventually, you got bored of only admiring him and playing around. You wanted more, you wanted to tease him. You had no guarantee that what you were about to do would go through, but you were ready for your big shot.

“Okay…let’s do something different now, more mature.”

Michael looked at you funny. More mature? What could be more mature than that? But he truly had no reason to question you, and so he listened.

“Can you…take off your pants for me, angel face?”

You knew he would get distracted by the nickname. And he knew you knew. He turned so red, he felt like the blood was getting to his head and pulling him into a haze-like state. He didn’t even notice you getting closer until your hands were toying with the buttons of his trousers. He involuntarily let out a high pitched sound he was embarrassed of, and tried to play it off with a nervous laugh.

“I-I mean is it necessary? For the shot to be more mature? I don’t think they would use such…dirty pictures anyway.”

You batted up your lashes at him, big doe eyes staring back at you with a nervousness hiding his increasing arousal. You pouted a bit, and Michael was willing to take back any protests right then and there.

“Well, we don’t have to share it with your manager, or your record label, or your parents then. You can do it for me.”

“For you? Really?”

He squinted at you. 

“But why would you want such a picture of me with you?”

You tilted your head, more malicious now, like you had been waiting for his question. You leaned up on him and whispered in his ear.

“So I can stare at your pretty, pretty angel face when I miss you, and at your toned thighs when I’m horny.”

A moan escaped Michael’s lip without him even realizing, and a shudder ran up his entire being, making his cock twitch inside his briefs. He almost went cross eyed.

“Y-Yeah? And…what would you do? Looking at it, I mean.”

His voice was trembling, and his question shocked even himself. But he wanted to know, needed to know, for a reason he wasn’t willing to admit yet. If he did, you would make fun of him. Unconsciously, one of his hands came to rest on your hip. Yours settled on the front of his crotch, and he shuddered again.

“Mhmm…I don’t know. Depends on how horny I am. I could admire it for a bit, then fetch my dildo. Or maybe, if I’m feeling really needy, I could look at it the whole time while I make myself cum with only my fingers.” 

You looked up at him again, your eyes dark and full with lust and longing. 

“And wish it was your fingers.”

You emphasized the last bit of your sentence by pressing down on his now rock hard dick, and he moaned again.

“Please” he stumbled on his own words. He hated that he had nothing witty to say right about now. “Please…”

“Please what, angel face?”

Another whimper, a bit louder than the last, and his other hand unabashedly came to cover your own, forcing you to rub on his crotch in an up and down motion.

“Jus touch me.”

“But I am touching you baby?”

He whined this time, almost child-like, but couldn’t find it in him to be embarrassed. His mauve tip was leaking through his boxers, and the friction you were offering him wasn’t enough.

“Grab my…touch me down there, common. You know I can’t say it”

He whispered his pleas in your neck, unable to look you in the eyes, his shyness taking over. But he still wanted you to know he was into it, oh so into it, and you felt small kisses and licks being peppered across your neck every time he wasn’t talking. 

You took pity in the moaning and whimpering mess he was, and finally unzipped his trousers for him before taking him into your hand. A relieved sigh escaped him, soon cut off by an estranged moan. His hips buck into your hand at a faster pace than the one you were going at, eager to reach his high and stop embarrassing himself.

“You’re needy, baby?”

He mumbled something, some kind of protest, against your neck that you weren’t able to hear.

“Mhmm?”

“M’not baby, angel face!” He said a bit louder this time, his voice a mix of frustration and need. 

You smiled again, taking note of his little tantrum. You’ll have to bring it up later, just to make fun of him and see him hide and deflect. You sped up the movement of your hands and watched him work himself up to the finish line in your embrace.

“Wanna cum for me angel face?”

He moaned louder now, his hips slamming against your palm despite the restraint he tried so hard to have. In his frenzied state, he didn’t notice the saliva running down his chin, but you felt it. Had it been anyone else you would’ve been repulsed, but it was Michael, and you found it endearing.

“Gonna…I’m gonna…”

Your other hand came up to pull the back of his hair a bit, wanting to see his eyes roll back as he came undone in your hand. The slight pain from your grip was all he needed before letting out a long, broken moan that could’ve been heard across two rooms if the house wasn’t so empty.

You let him come down from his high by giving slow rubs, your hand slick with his release, his cock twitching. He started kissing up your shoulder and your cheek before grabbing your hand, stopping the movements. 

Seeing that his knees were weak after his release, you brought him onto the bed with you and watched him cuddle close to you, this time looking you in the eye; admiring you. His heart beat faster every time you ran your hand through his hair, his leg wrapping around your own.

"You know," he said quietly, tracing absent-minded circles over your hand, "you make me nervous."

You let out an airy laugh.

"We've been dating forever."

"I know."

He smiled.

"That's the problem."

Another beat of silence fell upon you both, lost in the pure comfort and familiarity of the moment.

“So…not baby huh? Angel face?”

He loves being on his back beneath you. Michael’s curls would be splayed on the silk pillows, eyes glassy as you frot against him, controlling the pace. Every slow, slick slide makes him arch and let out those pretty little gasps, begging you to go faster with soft, broken “please… please baby.”

michael gets incredibly vocal when he’s subby. while you’re frotting him slow and deep he’s moaning your name like a mother fucking PRAYER, voice cracking into high, needy sounds. His fingers dig into your hips, not to control you, but just to hold on as he begs, “don’t stop… feels so good, I’m so close—” omg he’s such a bottom for you.

He’s so sensitive after rehearsals. You pull him into your lap and he hides his face in your neck, shyly grinding his tdick against yours while you guide his hips. Soft, desperate little thrusts as he whimpers praises and begs for more friction.

When you tease him, Michael gets the cutest pout. You his dick against yours but barely move and he starts whining. his hips twitching up helplessly, whispering “Please… I’ve been good, haven’t I?” with those big pleading eyes.

He cums so prettily when hes soooo desperate for you — back arching, thighs shaking, letting out the sweetest broken moans while you keep grinding through it, overstimulating him just enough to make him whimper your name again.

Michael gets so shy and overwhelmed when you eat him out. He’s on all fours on the silk sheets, face buried in the pillow while you spread him open and lick slow circles around his hole. Every time your tongue pushes inside he lets out those high, breathy whimpers, hands fisting the sheets as he pushes back desperately for more. He’s the prettiest when he’s being eaten out after a long rehearsal. Still wearing the white tshirt, moaning your name in that soft, cracking voice while you bury your face between his cheeks. “Feels—ah—feels so good, baby… don’t stop please—”

You love pinning him on his back with his legs over your shoulders. Michael’s thighs tremble around your head while you eat him out, tongue fucking him deep and messy. He’s a moaning, whimpering mess, one hand gently gripping your hair like he’s scared you’ll pull away.

After you make him cum from just your tongue he gets extra clingy and shy, hiding his face in your neck while he’s still twitching. Soft little “thank you”s and whimpers as you kiss his sensitive, slick hole gently.

When you finally come to your shared room, Michael was lying in bed, wearing the panties and bra you'd given him for his last birthday and his reading glasses.

His lingerie was white with matching black hearts.

"Oh... You're finally home from work, aren't you? Your daddy missed you." Michael pouted as he adjusted himself on the bed, letting you see how his flabbiness and rolls stood out alongside the beautiful stretch marks that appeared after having YOUR children.

God... That man's beauty could kill you right there.

When he saw that you weren't moving, he tried to entice you, sliding one of the straps off his shoulder. "It's so cold and the heat isn't working... Isn't that a shame baby boy?"

You must got close enough, after all your cock was really hard right now. When you get closer enough, you took Michael's face in your hands and then kissed him.

"You're like the god of fertility and seduction right now, in front of me."

"Like Eros? But he's not a god of fertility." Michael adjusted his reading glasses, the ones he knew drove you wild.

"I guess you're a mix of Eros and Ishtar," you replied, leaving a trail of kisses from his pink lips to his neck.

As you kissed him, he unbuttoned your shirt, caressing each new bare patch of your back.

"Wait- What about the kids?" You stopped kissing him, pulling your face away from his neck to meet his eyes. When you looked up, you saw his glasses begin to fog up from the heat radiating from your arousal.

Michael swallowed hard and, after a few moments, answered, now more aware. "The kids asked to sleep over at Chris' house tonight, so I thought I'd take the opportunity to give you a little something to relax you, right?" Michael placed his hands on your neck and then moved them down to touch your torso. "Your daddy needs some love and to unwind for a while. Could you do that for him?" He asked in that voice he used to persuade you.

How could you say no to that man who drove you crazy? Now that you thought about it, it had been a while since you'd given him oral sex, so you started kissing your way down his neck, chest, stomach, and finally his pelvis, which he hadn't shaved in months.  

When you reached his pussy, you took off his star-patterned panties and started kissing his tdick, intending to suck and lick it fervently after months without intimacy together.   "Oh baby, you are sucking it so good~ Keep going for your Daddy, Mgh! Keep going!" Michael couldn't resist and started swaying his hips while grabbing your hair and rubbing your face harder against his tdick. While you were sucking his tdick, you started inserting two fingers in his vagina and opening and closing them like scissors while looking intently at him.  

Before Michael reached orgasm, he pulled away and then took off his glasses. He looked at you, his breath ragged. "Sit on the bed, tonight I'm going to ride your cock." When you finally obeyed and helped him pull down your pants, he positioned himself over you and aligned your penis with his entrance. "I've missed having your cock inside me for a long time, babe." He said with that sweet voice of him, at the same time you were putting your own hands in his hips which had those sweety stretch marks. After few moments he began to take your cock inside him, inch by inch. When he finally had it all in his pussy, he stayed still for a few minutes, in those minutes you admire his soft foreskin and those stretch marks that you loved so much.  

When Michael got used to it, he started jumping, fucking him selves with your cock as if it was his personal toy. "Mmm- Ah- God, that feels so good! It feels so good, baby!" You loved how he flattered you, and it drove you wild, but you also wanted to make him experience those feelings too, so without question, you laid him on his back, put those beautiful legs on your shoulders, and started fucking him the way he liked it, rough but making him feel every inch.  

"Oh baby! It's so deep! Ugh!" Michael groaned while he scratched your shoulder and arm, searching for some stability.  

"Oh my dear Angel face, your sounds make me think I'm in heaven right now. How can you make those pretty sounds?" You asked. In that exact moment he looked at you with his messy hair and smiled with that face he only has when he is being fucked really hard.  

"Degrade me, tell me I'm just a pussy to fuck and treat me like your whore, you know that drives me really crazy~" Both of you didn't, notice how the bra that Michael was wearing just fell and make his mastectomy scars visible.  

"You're grown up but you love being someone younger's whore, don't you bitch? You love it when the energy of young guys fucks you until you lose all coherent thought, or am I wrong daddy?" You told him, knowing damn well that this bit of degradation made his pussy get more wet. Michael started to moan louder and tell you many times "Oh yes baby! I really really love it! More when I can be your whore!," you could really notice he was almost close so you decided to masturbate his tdick, make him groan and scratch your shoulders to a painful spot that, in a weird way, made you cum inside of him.  

"Oh god... That felt really good..." Michael said after some minutes in which both fell on the bed. He get near you just to hug you and pat your head and kiss your forehead. "I really love you, do you know?" He asked, with a voice that made you understand he was worried.  

"I already know it, bambi, you don't have to be worried about that. After all, we have been married more than 5 years." You tried but finally you laughed, Michael always got a bit insecure after sex.  

"Don't laugh dummy! I'm being serious!" Michael tried to be angry but he couldn't catch his laugh too. "Mhm... Anyways, let's take a snap, I'm tired and after all I don't want to clean all the cum you left inside me." Michael yawned before he closed his eyes.

"Okay baby, always try to remember that I love you... Yeah?" You whispered, laying on his chest.  

Thriller

★The first vhs he made were because a simple reason; he was jealousy just because once he dreamed of how you bought a playboy magazine so, as a solution, he found that you only "could have" eyes for him if he started making sexual and lonely videos of him.

★ The first time he recorded himself, he shaved because he was extremely insecure but uncomfortable at the same time due he wasn't comfortable without his bush. After months he started to leave his natural bush just because you started compliment it.

★ In the first video, he opened his legs which were shaking because his nerves. His movements were of a virgin.

★He used some lubricant in his forefinger and midlefinger to touch his clitoris because he was afraid to use his own saliva.

★ When he gave you the first VHS of all, he wasn't sure if you would like it. For 3 months he was only rubbing his clitoris against your clothes, your pillow, or his own fingers in the vhs.

BAD

★ After recording many videos of him rubbing his clitoris with his saliva he finally decided to make you a present for your birthday. He got a triangle piercing with your initial.

★ You could see how he got more confidence in the videos. Mow he could ride his 3 fingers while he pinched his nipples with his right hand.

★ He looked more often to the camera just to moan your name and the nicknames he gave you in the bed.

★ His first squirt alone was riding your pillow and his fingers, at the same time, he used his hair clips on his nipples.

HIStory

★ For your next present he recorded a vhs while you were shopping in your honeymoon. In the video he was in doggy style, making you see how he was using a personalized dildo of your big and fat cock.

★ He is going to moan really loud your name and beg for his "Daddy" to fuck him until he knows how to be a good boy. "Ngh... Daddy, I need your fat cock right now," "Please daddy, teach me how to be your good boy-."

★ He would use mamy sexual toys in this vhs just to try to overstimulate himself with them. With the idea of get more squirts in you pillow which would always have his smell and scent.

MATURE

★ He is a confident old man who had few stretch marks in his hips, thighs and tummy, after being away from the public eye.

★ Now is this vhs you can see him with more jewelery and not hiding his stretch marks that you complimented many years to make him understand how much did you love him and those natural marks he cried for many years.

★ He would be as loud as possible just to feel how you "choke" him, partly by putting your palm over his mouth, making it hard for him to breathe through his nose while you fuck him like a doll and take every breathe he takes.

★ When the space ship is alone he would practice new things because he doesn't know how loud he can moan.

★ He'll always try to make you angry in bed so you'll give him a hard fuck and overwhelming him with affectionate nicknames like "angel face," "My little one," "My dear," and his favorite one, "My star boy."

★ He would really enjoy rough sex, but after a long day, sometimes he would just need you to make love to him while you shower him with kisses and caress him all over, reminding him how much you love him.