A Dangerous Liason Submission: “After The Show”

Disclaimer:  This is a fan fiction written solely for the purpose of entertaining.  This story is not based on true events but based on a fantasy.

By: SizzlinStarFish aka MJSpuffyFan

“After The Show”

He smiled at me from the stage, and my heart began to pound.  God, the way his hips thrust, the way his hand slid down his light-brown chest, the way he grabbed what I could only imagine was the most beautiful cock ever created…all I could do was think about what it’d feel like to have him inside of me, feel his body trembling against mine as we fucked into the early morning hours.

I was jostled by the screaming fans on either side of me.  I was lucky enough to have won a front row spot as well as a backstage pass.  As soon as this song was finished, I was going backstage to meet the one man I’d fantasized about since I first saw that gorgeous pair of brown eyes staring at me from my favorite teen magazine.  God, he’d grown into such a gorgeous man, tall and lean.  Sex on legs was what he was.

I felt the spot of moisture on my panties grow as my thoughts continued to wander far from the concert at hand.  He was cupping his crotch again, biting his lower lip, looking up, thinking only God knows what.  All I could do was hold myself back from rushing onto the stage, tearing his shirt completely off and showing him how to do the naughtiest things he could only dream about.

Oh fuck.  He was rubbing himself.  God, the way those fingers delicately played over the fabric of his tight leather pants as he gyrated and slid across the stage made my heart pound faster, as my clit began to throb.  I needed release, and I needed it soon.  But first, I was going to meet Michael Jackson.

“Shamone!” he belted out, as he did a few more crotch thrusts and a quick moonwalk.  The girl behind me nearly burst my eardrum with her incessant shrieking, but I couldn’t really blame her.  Her outward expression of excitement mirrored the intensity of my inward desire and need to be taken right then and there by this amazing creature put on Earth to bring me countless nights of impassioned writhing beneath the covers as I desperately fucked my own hand, trying to bring some sort of calm to the furious heat between my legs.

Somebody was tugging my arm now.  I looked over to see a security guard, and while for a moment I thought my dreams of meeting Michael Jackson were now crushed, he nodded to the backstage pass that hung around my neck, and I let out a breath of relief.

“Right this way,” he mouthed.  I couldn’t hear him over the screaming crowd.  I looked back up at the stage, and Michael was staring at me.  He grinned once more, a grin I had pictured so many times in my dreams.  God damn, I was going to make the best of this once in a lifetime opportunity.

There was a handful of people about my age standing in an awestruck huddle.  Early twenties, all beautiful girls and a few good looking guys.  But none of them compared to Michael, and he wasn’t even standing next to them.  He was still on the stage, and as I looked over my shoulder, I saw him waving to the crowd, no doubt dazzling them with a fantastic show stopper.

“Mr. Jackson will be here in a few minutes.  Hands off unless he initiates the gesture.”  I looked at the security guard, amazed.  Seriously?  Mr. Jackson?

“He’s so fucking hot!” one girl screeched to another.  I closed my eyes, shuddering at the thought of Michael touching me.  God, I wondered if I’d faint right there in front of him?  Maybe he’d catch me.  Maybe he’d take me back to his dressing room, and maybe, just maybe, he’d put me on his bed and…ok, my mind was wandering again.

The screams of the crowd began to rise, and I knew he was leaving the stage.  Oh fuck, oh fuck!  He was coming backstage!

I heard his soft, infectious chuckle, and my knees nearly buckled.  The moment he came into sight, sweat glistening on his face, dripping down to his chest which was now almost completely exposed due to his ripped shirt, I squeezed my thighs together, hoping to God I could control myself in the presence of greatness.

Somebody handed him a towel and a bottle of water.  He took the bottle and took a large sip, and all I wanted to do was be that bottle, feel his lips on mine.  My tongue traced my lower lip, and I hope I didn’t look too much like a panther in heat staring at him like he was my next conquest.  He passed the water bottle off and began to wipe the sweat from his body.  Never in my life had I wanted to be a towel, soaking up the perspiration of pure genius; of raw sexuality.

“Hi,” he said softly, that voice vibrating through my very core.  “I’m Michael.”  Was he talking directly to me?  No, of course he wasn’t.

“Oh my God, Michael!” the other girls screamed, pushing past me, pushing me to the back of the crowd as they crowded around him, completely ignoring the security guard’s instructions.  All I could think was that this was my one chance to let Michael Jackson know I existed, and I couldn’t speak.  I couldn’t form one single sentence.

My mouth was dry, and I watched him from the background.  He was so sweet, so sexy, so…shy!  I’d heard Michael Jackson was a shy one, but watching him onstage?  On stage, he was a tiger.  He left me with the impression that he could just look at a girl and make her panties drop, but now?  Now he was blushing, and god damn it, it made me want him even more.

“I love you!” one girl cried.

“Marry me!” another screamed.

I just watched him, watching the way he smiled and, damn, the way he laughed nervously.  For somebody so raw on stage, he looked completely nervous with these girls throwing themselves at him, and now, I felt sorry for the poor guy.  As much as I wanted to take him into the nearest closet and fuck the hell out of him, I couldn’t help but want to take his hand and pull him away from these crazy people.

The guard began to lead everyone away after a few minutes, and I felt completely defeated.  I wanted so badly to say something to Michael, but the time had passed, and I hadn’t said one fucking thing.

“Miss?” he said to me, holding out his hand.  “This way.”

“Oh,” I muttered to the security guard, sheepishly smiling at Michael.  Michael smiled and looked at the security guard.

“Hold on,” he said, his voice music to my ears, “she got pushed to the back.  You can take the others out now if you want.  Give her a minute.”  My eyes nearly popped out of my skull at that point.  Michael flashed his perfect smile, one I’d drooled over I don’t know how many times.

“Thanks,” I smiled, as the security guard left with the jealous mob of fans.  Some of the stage crew glanced questioningly at each other.

“What’s your name?” he wondered.  I told him, and he smiled again.  God, I about fucking came right then and there.  “I like it.  It’s a beautiful name.”

“Thanks,” I muttered dumbly.  “Um, you…I mean, up there on the stage.  God…you were…awesome.”

“Oh, thank you.  You’re so sweet.”   I clenched my thighs again.  “You were in the front row, right?”  I nodded, awestruck.  “Yeah, I saw you.”  Holy shit.

“Oh.  Um…yeah.  I’m a big fan.  I…that new video of yours…it’s amazing.”

“Oh, Bad?  Thanks.” “You’re welcome.  I…I like all your videos.  God, do I sound like a crazy stalker or what?”

“No,” he laughed.  “Actually, I noticed you because you weren’t screaming and going crazy.”

“Oh,” I blushed.   Apparently his shyness was rubbing off on me.  “I was having fun, I just…I was thinking about other things.”

“What other things?”

“Um…” I breathed nervously, “I don’t…”

“It’s ok,” he chuckled.  “Hey, I need to go change.”

“Oh.  Right.  Um, thanks for, uh…well, yeah.  It was…it was great to meet you.”

“You too,” Michael said with a smile, reaching out, taking my hand.

Holy shit.  Oh fucking God!  I felt my clit throb again, and my mouth began to water as those lips, those amazingly soft lips touched my hand. I bit my lower lip to keep from shrieking or sobbing or maybe from attacking him with kisses.  And the moment he let go of my hand, I slowly turned, my knees quaking.  And then, as if I had suddenly slipped into a state of unconsciousness and my dreams had taken over, he called out to me. “Would you like to come hang out at my suite and watch some TV or something?”

“Huh?”  I spun around, my eyes as big as saucers.

He smiled shyly.  “You want…” “I know, I know,” he chuckled, “there are so many people on my crew I could hang out with, but they’re all exhausted.  They all go home and sleep, and I’m not tired yet.”

“You’re not tired?” I asked, completely surprised.  “I mean, you just put on a two hour concert…and…”

“After you do it so many times, you get used to it.”

Oh.  My.  God. “Oh.  Um…ok.”  *** What the hell else was I supposed to say?  The King of Pop had just invited me over to his hotel suite to hang out, and while in my head, I was running through every naughty scenario imaginable, I was completely speechless as I waited outside of his dressing room.  He was naked in there.  The sexy body I fantasized about every night was only being separated from me by a door.  A door that may or may not be locked. My hand instinctively reached out for the knob, but before I could turn it, the security guard cleared his throat. “Miss?” “Uh…what?”  I turned quickly.  “It’s time for you to go.” “But…Michael…he…I mean, I’m with…he’s…”

“She’s with me, John,” Michael said softly from behind me.  I turned to see him standing there in a fresh white shirt, one like he wore on stage.  I made a mental note to ask him later exactly how many of those he had.  My gaze traveled downward.  He was wearing the tightest jeans imaginable.  I was practically purring now. “Mr. Jackson?”

“Is my driver out back?” “As always, Mr. Jackson,” the guard said with a nod, eyeing me like I was some sort of disease.  I just shrugged my shoulder and smiled at Michael.  He smiled back. “You like movies?” “Uh…yeah!”  At that point, he could have asked me if I liked bungee-jumping with no bungee cord, and I would have said yes and been the first off the bridge.

***

The ride back to the hotel was intense.  He sat next to me, head leaning against the back of the seat as he spoke about the concert and things he wanted to work on for the next show.  I listened intently, but my eyes were transfixed on his beautiful mouth.  The way his smile grew when he talked about his favorite things made my heart jump with joy and my body ache for his touch.

“So, um, what do you usually do after a concert, Michael?” I wondered.  He looked over at me with those gorgeous brown eyes which, had they not looked so completely innocent, would have had me sliding my panties down my legs at that very moment.  “Usually I go back to the hotel I’m staying at and relax.  Sometimes I call friends or watch TV.”

“Oh,” I said slowly.  I felt like an idiot.

“You live around here?” “Yeah.  I do.   Um, I have an apartment a few blocks from here.” “Yeah?” Michael wondered, thoughts running through his head.  “My security guard would be so mad if I…”

“If you what?” I wondered, lip trembling with curiosity as a mischievous grin spread over his face.

“You don’t know what it’s like to be led around like a dog on a leash all the time,” he said quietly, his voice full of sadness.

“I…I’m sure that’s tough.”

“Sometimes I just wanna get away from it, you know?”

I nodded, my throat going dry.  “Where’d you say you lived?”

“Uh…”  I wracked my brain, trying to remember my address, and when I finally remembered it, I gave it to him.  He knocked on the window separating us from the driver, and he passed a few hundred dollar bills through.  “Hey Louie, change of plans.  Don’t tell John.”  John was in the limo ahead of us.  He gave Louie the address, and Louie quickly veered off toward my apartment building.  I nearly had a heart attack.  Michael Jackson was coming to my apartment.  Michael fucking Jackson!

***

My hand shook as I fumbled to get the key in the door.  He was standing right next to me, and I could smell the scent of him.  God, he must have taken a shower in his dressing room because he smelled like cologne and soap.

“Um, sorry if the place is a mess,” I chattered nervously, knowing the house was spotless, as I’d spent the entire day cleaning, trying to keep myself from going crazy until the concert. I found the light switch and turned it on, lighting the hallway so Michael and I could see to get into the place.

“It’s nice.  I like it.”

“Yeah, well, this is just part of it.  You haven’t seen the bedroom yet.  That’s the best part.”  Holy mother of God!  Had I really just said that?  I froze in horror and glanced at Michael, who flashed me a big, pearly smile and brushed past me.  Shivers went down my spine.  God, Michael Jackson had just touched me.  Well, it wasn’t the first time, but we were in my apartment now.  Suddenly, I wanted ever so badly to have a camera to record every moment of this.

“Great collection,” he murmured, glancing at my vast collection of movies on my shelves.  I blushed accordingly and watched as he picked out something.

“May I?”

“Go ahead.  Um, remote’s on the coffee table.”  I dumbly sat down and watched as Michael popped the tape into the VCR.  When he bent over, my mouth watered at the sight of his firm ass in those tight jeans. Michael came over and sat down on the couch.  Next to me.  I felt like I was fourteen again and on my first, very awkward date.

“Do you want something to drink?” I asked softly.

“No, thanks,” he said quietly.  God, that silky soft voice drove me crazy.  I knew I had to occupy myself, or else I’d be all over him within moments. I cleared my throat and scooted over a little, widening the gap between us.  Michael didn’t seem to notice, and I let out a slow, shaky breath.  My hands trembled, as I reached for the remote to turn up the volume.  His hand met mine at the same time, and we looked at each other.

“Sorry,” I said with a little smile.

“Sorry,” he laughed at the same time.

I shivered.  Even his laugh was sexy!   Still, I felt my cheeks burning red, and my chest began to heave.

“You have really pretty eyes.”

“I…thanks,” I managed to squeak out.

“Um, so do you.  I mean…gorgeous eyes.  They’re like…I just…”  I sighed and leaned back against the couch.  “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he smiled.

“You’re probably used to girls throwing themselves at you.”

“It happens a lot,” he said quietly, “but it doesn’t mean I’m used to it.”

I glanced at him awkwardly.  “And compared to other girls?  You’re pretty much the sanest one I’ve ever met.”

I had to laugh at that. “Yeah, well, if you could read the thoughts going through my head right now, you might change your mind,” I teased.  Michael smiled again, and that was my undoing.  I leaned in, touching his cheek, feeling the softness of his skin against my fingertips.  I saw a flicker of anticipation in his eyes, and I smiled.  “This is ok?”

“Yeah,” he said softly, swallowing hard.  I took a few breaths in and out and then I leaned in closer, wetting my lips.  This was it.  I was going to kiss Michael Jackson, and if I didn’t die of utter happiness at that very moment, I would have something to fantasize about for the rest of my life.
***

I couldn’t believe it.  I was kissing Michael Jackson.  I was lying on top of Michael Jackson.  On my couch.   The act of actually getting there was all quite blurry, but now his hand was on my waist, and I thought I was going to die.  I could no longer hear the noise from the TV.  I could barely feel anything but the sensation of being on top of him, feeling him trembling underneath me as I straddled his waist.  He whispered my name as my hand gently moved up his shirt, touching the soft skin that stretched over surprisingly firm muscle.  He’d always looked so lean on stage, but he was quite nicely muscled.  Of course, he’d surely have some muscle after those countless hours he’d spent dancing over the years. But the moment his name came off my lips, I didn’t care what his body was like.  Lucky for me, it was pretty damned perfect, and the confidence I’d gained just by being able to make him whisper my name spurred me on.  My hand reached down, caressing the bulge in his jeans, which were now even tighter as his erection grew.

He moaned softly, but his hand came to my wrist, pulling me away.  I looked down at him questioningly, and then I saw the shyness return.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No…no, it’s not that,” he breathed, his breath ragged.  “It feels good.  I just…”

I cocked my head to the side, and I studied him for a moment.  The question then rose to my lips before I had a chance to stop myself.  Surely to God this sexy man who knew how to make every woman’s panties wet had had sex before.  But… “Michael, are you a virgin?”

Michael’s cheeks grew redder, and I gently ground myself against him.  My skirt had shifted, and now all that separated me from Michael’s cock was my now soaking panties and the denim of his jeans.  I just hoped to God he didn’t wear underwear. “I…uh….” “It’s ok if you are,” I smiled.  “But I’d be surprised.”

“You would?”

“Well, I mean, you’re…you’re Michael Jackson.  Every woman wants you.  Hell, men want you, Michael.”  I smiled a little and leaned in, softly sucking on his lower lip.

He moaned softly, and he shook his head. “I’m not a virgin,” he confessed.  “I, uh…well, I mean…I don’t have a lot of experience.  Just once…and it was…”

“Bad?” “Not bad.  Just…awkward.”

“Oh,” I grinned.

“Yeah…the first time is always awkward.”  I then realized that I probably sounded like a huge slut.  “Not that I have a lot of experience…I just…”

“It’s ok,” he smiled.

“I just…”

“We don’t have to do this.”  My mind screamed at me to shut the fuck up.  Michael nodded slowly, and he leaned back against the couch, covering his face with his hands.  He chuckled a little and shook his head and chewed on his lower lip.  That was my undoing. I leaned in, my lips pressing against his again, taking him by surprise.  I moaned hungrily as my tongue delved into his mouth, tasting his.  My skin was hot, and while I was still reeling from the fact that I was about to have sex with Michael Jackson, I couldn’t stop myself from taking pause to stare down at the beautiful man I was straddling.  He looked up at me with wide eyes, his chest heaving as I licked my kiss-swollen lips.

“Sorry, I uh…” “You don’t have to apologize for doing what feels good,” he murmured, which made my panties flood with my own juices once more.  I closed my eyes, moaning softly as my nipples hardened.  Michael’s hand gently swept up my hip and grazed up the side of my breast.  There were about three hundred people I’d gone to high school with that I wanted to call at that very moment just to inform them that at that very moment, in my apartment, Michael Jackson was about to have the best sex he’d ever experienced, and I was gonna make sure he never forgot it. My hands were roaming uncontrollably under his shirt now, and Michael was panting heavily underneath me.  All good sense flew out the window, and my brain went on autopilot, letting my desires take control.  I gently raked my fingers over his chest, grazing his nipples.  He let out a soft little yelp of a hiss, and I smiled, grinding my sodden pussy against his jeans.  My clit was throbbing, and I pressed harder, widening my hips a little so I could feel the friction.  I moaned, rolling my head back as more juices continued to flood my panties. My name came off his lips again, and I about fucking died.

I leaned down, kissing him hungrily, sucking his lower lip between mine, teasing it with my tongue until I heard him moan.  I sat back a little, and I tugged at his shirt. “Sit up,” I breathed, surprised at how demanding I sounded.  Michael sat up slowly, and he helped me remove his shirt.  The sight of his gorgeous chest was a shock to me.  Sure, I’d seen him rip his shirt open countless times, but seeing him this close, feeling his skin against my skin, it was too much. I bit my lower lip and ran my  hands up his arms, over his shoulders and around to his back, caressing the soft skin, feeling his muscles jump at the new sensation.  I grinned, and he smiled nervously back at me before boldly going in for a kiss.  I gasped softly, when I felt myself falling backward.  He was crawling over me now, and I thought for sure my alarm was going to go off and wake me from this amazing dream.  But no alarm sounded, and his lips and his tongue were now exploring my neck.

His hands trembled as one hand dipped under my blouse and caressed my side.  I moaned, and felt his hand steady as he gained more confidence.  “Touch me,” I murmured, as his lips brushed over mine.  He pulled back a little, and I smiled, taking his free hand and placing it over my breast.  I arched my back and pressed myself into his hand, closing my eyes as I felt him squeeze gently.  But it wasn’t enough.  I sighed in frustration, sitting up a little, unhooking my bra and slipping it out through one arm hole.  Michael raised an eyebrow, and I blushed. “Sorry…” I murmured.  “This is much better.”  I worked with the buttons until the shirt fell open around me.  Michael licked his lips and bent down, taking a nipple between his gorgeous, perfect teeth.  Christ, he had my breast in his mouth, and I was thinking about his teeth?  My hands moved to his back again, as he slowly explored one breast and then the other, and I took the opportunity to get my hands on what I had had my eye on all evening…his amazing ass.

My hands cupped him, and I nearly came at the feeling of those rock hard buns against my fingertips.

“Holy shit,” I murmured.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked, pulling back.

“Oh God,” I breathed, “no.  Keep…keep doing that.”

He smiled a little and bowed his head, licking the flesh between my breasts before he kissed his way down my stomach.  I gasped as his nose tickled my stomach.

“Where…where are you going?”

“I want you to feel good, too,” he said softly.  Then I saw the worry in his eyes.  “Do you…if you don’t want me to…”

What?  No!   Shit! “Uh…I just…didn’t expect…”  My throat was about to close up.

Michael smiled a little. “Just because I don’t have much experience doesn’t mean I don’t know how to make a lady feel like a woman.”

“Uhhn….”  I collapsed back against the couch, my breaths now coming in ragged gasps.  Then I felt his fingers on the button holding my skirt together.  Within a second, that skirt was shimmying down my hips, and his fingers were dragging my panties down my thighs.  The moment my body was rid of its last shred of clothing, my thighs clamped together instinctively.  He let out a little laugh, and I about passed out.  His hands gently caressed my thighs before slowly easing them apart.  I opened my eyes and looked over at him, and just as I was about to accept the idea that Michael Jackson, King of Pop, was about to taste my pussy, he started to kiss his way up my leg, taking his own sweet, delicious time, making me wetter by the moment.

All fears were pushed aside the moment his fingers spread my pussy lips apart, and his tongue darted out to ease up my slit before circling my clit with wild abandon.

“Oh fuck!” I screamed out, immediately grabbing at the closest thing I could reach, which just so happened to be his hair.  He let out a little chuckle, which vibrated through my very core, making my hips buck against his mouth.  His lips closed around my clit, and I arched my back, holding his head firmly in place between my legs.  One of his hands rested on my thigh, gently kneading it.  His other hand was lost somewhere beneath us.  His fingers glided against my slippery folds, and he inserted two fingers immediately, making my hips buck again.

“Michael!” I cried out, praying this wasn’t a dream.  My inner walls contracted around his fingers, and he continued to pump them in and out expertly, as if he’d done this a million times before.  Part of me hoped he hadn’t, but another part of me got a thrill out of the idea of him knowing a woman well enough to be able to please her this much.  That amazing mouth of his not only produced beautiful music, but it knew how to draw a woman to the brink of orgasm just as well. His tongue continued massaging my throbbing clit, and it wasn’t long before I felt my body tighten up, and I threw my head back.

“Michael!  I’m…oh God!  Michael!”  And then the floodgates broke, and I came.  Michael gripped my hips and drank in every last drop, and when I had the feeling back in my clenched toes, I relaxed and looked up at him.  He lay between my legs, his chin resting on my stomach.  He was smiling.

“Where did you learn how to do that?” I asked, fully aware that I was lying completely naked before him, while he had yet to divest himself of those damned jeans.  He opened his mouth to answer, but I shook my head.  “Never mind.  I don’t wanna know.  I’d like to think that you’re a quick learner.”  He laughed a little and crawled up my body, kissing me as he went. “You’re spoiling me,” I giggled.  “I’m not gonna wanna let you go tomorrow.”  His eyes met mine, and it would have been an awkward silence if I hadn’t immediately reached down to cup his crotch and give it a little squeeze.

“Oh!” he cried out.  I smiled devilishly and sat up a little.  He moved with me, and I pushed him back so he was sitting up on the couch.  I moved to the floor and crawled between his legs, placing my hands on the tops of his thighs.

“Your turn.” For the first time, I was going to get a glimpse of what I’d been fantasizing about for so long now.  I licked my lips, and keeping my gaze directly on his beautiful, soft, brown eyes, I unbuttoned his jeans and smiled up at him.  I leaned forward, kissing his stomach, feeling him jump a little beneath me.  I giggled when he let out a nervous chuckle, and I bent down, taking his zipper between my teeth.

“Ah,” he hissed out, clenching his fists on either side of him.

“What’s wrong?” I wondered, looking up at him innocently.

“I’ve just…never…nobody’s…”

“Oh,” I purred.  “It’s ok, Michael.  Now I get to make you feel like a man.”  I grinned a little and traced my finger against his crotch, scraping just slightly with my nail.  He sucked in a sharp breath and leaned his head back against the couch.  I clamped down on the zipper again, slowly drawing it downward.  A moment later, his cock sprang free from the confines of his jeans, and my eyes widened and my mouth watered at the site of it.  He was bigger than any cock I’d ever had before, and the thought of riding that beautiful instrument had me a little worried that it was going to hurt.  But I didn’t care.  It was beautiful, and I wanted all of him.

I reached out, softly caressing the silky shaft, and my gaze wandered up to meet his.  But his eyes were closed now, and he was sweating.  I smiled a little, leaning forward to place a kiss to the tip, darting my tongue out to trace along the head.  His hips jumped just slightly, and I let go of him, hooking my fingers through his belt loops.

“Raise up,” I said, watching him raise his hips ever so slowly.  I pulled them all the way down his legs and finally tossed them aside so I could fully appreciate the site before me.  He was magnificent.  Long and lean, but muscled too.  His pale-brown skin was glistening all over with a fine sheen of sweat, and it gave me a feeling of power that I’d done that to him.  I smiled a little and took his cock into my hand again.

“Does this feel good?” He said nothing.   He only nodded, and he swallowed hard, slowly opening his eyes to look at me.  I kissed the tip again, and I felt his cock twitch ever-so in my hand.  “Good,” I whispered.  I licked my hand and placed it back around his smooth shaft.  I began a slow rhythm before leaning forward and sliding the tip past my lips and into my mouth.  His hips jumped off the couch again, and I placed one hand against his stomach to keep him still, and I began to take him further into my mouth, inch by tantalizing inch. The most adorable, sexy voices were coming from the back of his throat as I took him in, and I hummed a little, making his hips jerk at the vibration.

I didn’t take my eyes off his as I began a comfortable rhythm, taking him in and out of my mouth slowly, each time flicking his tip with my tongue and then circling the head delicately with my thumb.  He breathed my name again, and I reached between my legs, rubbing my clit as I bobbed up and down on that amazing organ.  When his breathing grew sharp and quick, I reached up, my hand coated in my own juices, and I gave his balls a little squeeze, and with a few more pumps of my hand on his shaft, he came into my mouth, and the sensation of his cum on my tongue startled me, but I drank it down and continued to stroke him until every last drop was gone. I let go of his cock, which was still semi-hard, and I moved back up onto the couch.  I couldn’t believe I’d just given Michael Jackson a blow job, and judging by the glazed over look in his eyes, he’d certainly enjoyed it. Suddenly, the shyness was back.  I could feel my face turning red, and Michael looked over at me, his own face a sweet shade of pink.

“That was amazing,” he murmured, reaching over to stroke my hair.  I shivered under his touch, and he smiled, leaning over to kiss me, which surprised me, considering I could still taste his cum in my mouth. His tongue traced my lower lip, and I opened up to him.  His arms circled around me, pulling me against him.  I shuddered once more in his arms, and then I let my hand travel down his chest.  I felt his skin prickle and jump under my touch.

“Michael,” I breathed, kissing my way from his lips to his neck, tasting the salty goodness of his sweat.  My eyes rolled back, and I felt him stir against my thigh.  Well, not every girl could say they’d just been eaten out by the King of Pop.  And now, judging by the look in his eyes, it was about to go a whole lot further.  Well, if we were going to do this, we were gonna do it right.

“Come on.”  I disentangled myself from his grasp and stood from the couch.  I stared down at his naked form, and he smiled at me.  That bright, wide smile that held so much innocence nearly broke my heart, but it turned me on at the same time, because I knew that beneath that boyish façade was an animal, feral and ready to act on the most basic of instincts at any given moment.

“Where are we going?” “To get more comfortable,” I teased, taking his hand and leading him down the hallway.  He had other ideas.  His hands grabbed my hips, and his fingers began to draw light circles there.  I squealed with laughter, and he echoed my amusement with a laugh of his own.  With that, I started out in a quick sprint for the bedroom, and he was right behind me, running stark naked after me.

When I reached my bed, I turned around, only to have him smack right into me, throwing the both of us on the bed.  Laughing, we rolled around a little, trying to gain our bearings, but it wasn’t long before his hard cock was nudging at my slick entrance.  I bit my lower lip, moaning softly as the smile slowly fell from his face, giving way to the look of passion in his now glassy eyes.  I placed my hand against his cheek and let out a soft breath.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” I murmured, half hoping I’d only been thinking it, but when his gaze turned to one of distant emotion, I immediately realized I was taking this in the wrong direction.  I needed to keep him focused.  This was never going to happen again.  We’d go our separate ways.  He was going to leave town tomorrow, and maybe he would remember this, and maybe he wouldn’t, but I could make it as memorable for myself as possible.

I reached between us, taking his cock into my hands.  He moaned at the feeling of me raising my hips to let my pussy coast along the length of him, lubricating him.

“Not so awkward this time around,” he murmured, beginning to tremble as he relaxed between my legs a little.

“Yeah, well, you don’t need to feel awkward,” I assured him.  “If you’re even half as good at this as you were at that,” I pointed toward the door, reminding him of the amazing orgasm he’d given me a few minutes ago, “then I don’t think we have anything to worry about.”

He held his breath when I positioned his tip at my entrance, and together we moved so that he began to slide inside me.  My hands were on his back now, and I could feel his body shudder as he pushed deeper inside me.  I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling his girth stretch me further than I had been before.  I bit my bottom lip, taking a deep breath through my nose as he finished seating himself inside me.

“Are you ok?” he whispered after a few moments, looking down at me, his eyes full of worry and of anticipation.

“Yeah,” I murmured, nodding my head quickly.  “Just getting adjusted.”

I blushed, and he smiled down at me, leaning forward to press his lips against mine, immediately slipping his tongue inside to taste mine. I arched back, gasping when I realized he had filled me completely and still wasn’t fully in.  I groaned, and I pushed on his chest a little.

“I’m hurting you,” he worried, starting to pull away, but I grabbed onto his shoulders, holding him tight.

“No,” I gasped.  “Just…give me a second.”

My hands moved to his hips, and I eased him into a slow rhythm, feeling his sleek shaft moving in and out of me.  We had barely done anything yet, and it was already the most erotic experience of my life.  I stared up into his eyes, those deep, soulful brown orbs that glittered with passion and fire, and I knew that that wild side was just about to rear its head once more.  I needed him to know that I could take charge too, so I pulsed my inner muscles, eliciting out of him the sexiest groan I’d ever heard from a man. I grinned wickedly at him, and he thrust hard against me, making me gasp again.  But it felt too damned good to protest.

I pulled him down on me, and his mouth began to work its magic on my collarbone, and I relaxed a little, letting my hands wander down his toned back until they were firmly cupping his fine ass.  I bit my lip and gave his ass a squeeze, pulling him roughly against me, shifting my hips upward to meet him halfway.  He let out a little hiss as he clamped his mouth over my nipple, tugging firmly at it with his teeth.

“Oh, Michael,” I murmured, feeling oddly like the girl in the Thriller video, but I shook that thought out of my head when his tongue circled my nipple, and he reached down to stroke my clit as he continued to thrust slowly inside of me.  “Oh God…” His other hand kneaded my other breast, and he rolled the nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and I began to tremble, hooking one of my legs around his.  He wasn’t going anywhere. Within a few moments, I clenched around him, and he moaned softly at the feeling as I came around him, my inner walls pulsating on their own. He began to pick up the pace now, and I moaned louder, digging my nails into his upper arms as I sucked in a large gulp of air. “Michael!” I cried out, as his confidence continued to grow, and he began kissing me again, all the while pulling one of my legs up to hook around his hip so he could have better access.

He thrust upward, and for a moment, I thought he was going to split me in two, but his sweet kisses distracted me from the little aches.  I was going to hurt in the morning, but it was going to be totally worth it. When he broke the kiss, he looked down at me, and I placed my hand against his cheek, feeling the beads of sweat against his flesh.  He leaned forward, steadying himself, and I craned upward, gently biting his shoulder, crying out as he began to pump harder, moving those hips as skillfully as he did on stage.  God, I’d just known it would be this amazing.  I just hadn’t been ready for how amazing it would feel! My body was on fire.  With each sweep of his hand over my thigh or over my breast, I felt as if a thousand sparks were igniting and swirling through my body, creating a ball at my core, pooling there as he continued to pound away at me, making me wonder how I had never realized how wonderful sex was until this very moment.

Suddenly, his hands were on my arms, and he brought them above my head, pinning them there, and I saw a wicked smile spread across his face.  I took in a deep breath and prepared myself for whatever was about to happen, and I held my arms firmly against the mattress while he made use of his hands in other ways, moving my leg a little and gripping my hips to raise them off the mattress.  I cried out at the change of angle, and I realized he was hitting a spot that usually went untouched during my sexual experiences.

“Oh God!  Yeah,” I panted out, as my heart hammered against my chest with the speed of a hummingbird’s.  The sex God that I’d imagined him to be when he was on stage was breaking through and making his presence known! I arched back again, and it felt like I was going to split in two.  He was pumping so hard that it was starting to ache, but when I relaxed a little, the ache was replaced by those familiar twinges.  I knew I was going to cum again, and it was going to happen soon.  I moved my hands from their resting place, and I let them trail down my sweat-covered chest before running up his chest and up his arms.  The groans that came from him were so deep, so filled with lust that for a moment, I wondered if the man on top of me truly was Michael Jackson, but when he opened his eyes and looked down at me, there was no doubt in my mind who was fucking me.

“Oh fuck!” I cried out, as his hand moved down to rub my clit once again, bringing me closer to the brink.  I sucked in a sharp breath, and I used all the strength I could muster at that moment to push him over.  He slid out of me and rolled onto his back.  I climbed atop him, grabbed hold of his cock, and I watched him squirm as I slowly lined it up to my pussy and slid back down on it, filling myself completely with him, reaching back to fondle his balls. I looked down at him, watching his face twist and contort as he tried to hold in the cries that were about to emerge.  I set a steady pace, bobbing up and down on that magnificent cock, feeling his girth stretching me again, feeling his length bring upon the most satisfying ache I’d ever felt before.

His hands moved to my hips, and I placed my hands on his, moving them back to my ass.  He squeezed my cheeks a little, holding me steady, as I placed my hands on his chest, riding him faster and faster. I pulsed my inner walls around him, strangling his beautiful cock as I rode him.  He groaned as I leaned down, my hardened nipples grazing over his bare chest.  I kissed his lips and then moved down, suckling on his neck, tasting the salt of his sweat, moaning in pleasure as his hands moved to run through my hair.  He tugged a little, surprising me, and I opened my eyes to see him squeeze his eyes shut hard as he bucked his hips.  I pulled myself up a little, placing my hands on his chest again, arching my back and tossing my hair back, letting go of all inhibitions.  But as I did so, he gained control again, yanking my hips to bring me closer as he thrust upwards.  I cried out, and he took the opportunity to flip me onto my back while he pounded me hard against the mattress.

“Unh!” I cried out, arching my back as he plunged into me, stretching me, filling me completely.  My hands moved to his shoulders again, and I dug into them with my fingernails.  He sucked in a sharp breath and kissed the hollow of my throat, making my limbs turn to jelly around him.  I was completely at his mercy. His hands were on my thighs now, circling round to grab behind my knees.  He pushed my knees up a little, and I cried out as his cock hit my cervix.  He pulled back a little, and I bit my lower lip, sliding my hands up his back, linking them behind his neck and bringing him down to kiss me.

“God, I love you,” I murmured against his lips.  I wasn’t certain if I’d said it aloud, or if I’d only imagined saying it, as this was only one of a million different fantasies I’d had of him.  Perhaps it wasn’t really happening.  Perhaps… He gave my lower lip a little tug with his teeth.  Back to reality.  My eyes flew open, and I reached out, grabbing the bed sheets, twisting them in my fingers as he moved faster, fucking me harder, showing no sign of turning back into that shy gentleman I’d kissed on the couch.  Not that I was complaining.

Michael’s ferocious side had a fierce appetite. I was about to cum again, and my inner walls were involuntarily clenching around him now, and I could feel him shuddering.  I cried out, as his thumb grazed over my mound and then circled my clit quickly, bringing me closer and closer to the edge. “Oh God!  Michael!  I’m…”  Everything stopped in that moment, it seemed.  I felt a rush go through me.  My entire body tensed up, and my toes even curled.  I arched back, clenching as he continued moving in and out of me, and when I felt myself let go, I collapsed back against the mattress, feeling the waves rush over me.

He was panting now, and it only took a few more of my own internal spasms to trigger his own release, and he groaned against my shoulder, collapsing against my sweat-covered chest, his face dripping with his own perspiration.  I smiled dreamily and ran my fingers through his curly hair, as he softly suckled my shoulder, nipping a trail of kisses blindly down my noodle-like arm.  I was completely spent, and I could tell that he was too.

He rolled off of me and lay on his back, chest heaving.  I stared up at the ceiling, trying to wrap my head around the fact that I had just had sex with Michael Jackson.  Michael.  Fucking.  Jackson.  And not only was he as amazing as I had imagined, but he already had me fighting back tears, realizing he was going to leave, and I was never going to see him again.

After a few minutes, I awkwardly turned to look at him.  It was a very different situation to be in bed with a naked man and not be filled to the brim with his cock.  He turned to look at me, a hint of crimson playing just below the surface of his face.

“You probably have to go now, huh?” I wondered.

His mouth twitched, and I wasn’t sure if he was going to smile or frown.

He settled for a guilty half-smile.  “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.  That was amazing,” I smiled.  “I’ll never forget it.”

“Me neither.”

“Oh, sure,” I laughed, rolling my eyes and tossing a pillow at him.  “I’m sure I’m just the first of many girls that you’ll…”

“No you’re not,” he replied, reaching over to touch my shoulder.

“I’m not with a person unless I care about them.”

“You just met me.”

“But you have honest eyes,” he pointed out.

I felt my heart break a little.

I realized that I could never shout about this from the rooftops without potentially hurting his image.

“Well, you can trust me,” I said quietly, sitting up in the bed and wrapping my arms around my knees, resting my chin there.

“But you shouldn’t be so trusting in general, Michael.  Looks can be very deceiving.”

Michael sighed and turned to stare at the ceiling again.  I sighed softly, and I curled up next to him, resting my head against his chest.

“I can stay a while longer,” he whispered, kissing the top of my head.  I smiled dreamily to myself, and as much as I wanted to stay awake and enjoy this amazing night, I was too exhausted, and within minutes, I was fast asleep against the King of Pop.
The End

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Where making it passionate is what we urge you to do everyday. Life is too short...sing, dance, play and most of all L.O.V.E.