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michaelsfavgirl · 7 months ago

Text

through the keyhole

Pairing: Michael Jackson x fem!reader

Synopsis: While Michael attends to his duties as a devoted husband (taking you to pound town), the maids arrive unnoticed. Drawn by the sinful sounds echoing from your bedroom, they find themselves unable to resist eavesdropping.

Tags: smut, established-relationship (y'all are married <3), OCs, p in v, mating press, voyeurism, creampie, overstimulation, oral (fem receiving), fingering, lots of drama, legal ramifications, mike being the worlds no. 1 husband.

Word Count: 7.2k

Requested: yes/no

Author’s Note: Although I'm proud of this, the writing process for this was hell! But anyway, I need detailed reports on what y'all think about everything as compensation, thank you very much.

Links: navigation | masterlist | taglist

The noise of the curtains fluttering from the warm wind and the quiet chatter of the TV wakes you from your slumber. It's most definitely way past the acceptable time for a lie-in, probably closer to noon, but you don't care. With the way last night ended, with shared moans bouncing off the walls, no one could blame you. He had been so desperate for your touch after shutting himself in the studio for hours, hungrily taking you again and again until you couldn't string sentences together anymore.

Speaking of the incubus himself, as you open your eyes, before you can even muster up the strength to stretch your sore limbs, you're met with a tantalizing sight of Michael sprawled out on the bed next to you, absentmindedly watching the television. He's leaning against a pillow propped up against the headboard, completely nude. This isn't surprising, but what captures your attention is his soft and heavy length resting enticingly against his thigh, looking as delicious as ever. You try to ignore the slickness pooling between your thighs.

His cock is a sight to behold, thick and veiny, with a prominent ridge running along the underside. The head, peeks out from his uncut foreskin, is swollen and glistening with remnants of your previous night's activities. You can't tear your eyes away from it, from the way it lays there just waiting for your touch.

You groan inwardly. How is he so nonchalant about this? How can he just sit there, so casually, with his massive cock on full display? Doesn't he know what effect it has on you, how it makes you crave him like nothing else?

You keep staring shamelessly, your eyes trailing every little detail. In your already fuzzy state, you don't notice Michael glancing at you, an amused smile growing on his face as he follows your half-lidded gaze.

Teasingly, he readjusts his body, making his hips thrust upwards slightly, causing his thick cock to bounce a little. You whimper quietly, but loud enough for him to hear. That sound doesn't even register in your mind until you hear him chuckle. Your eyes dart upwards to his face, feeling your cheeks grow hotter under his amused gaze.

"Enjoying the view, huh?" he teases, and you quickly turn onto your back, facing the opposite direction to avoid his stare.

"None of that," he murmurs, reaching over to cup your face and gently turn your gaze back to him. "Look at me."

And you do. Goodness gracious, how does he manage to be so gorgeous even with his curls messily framing his face? Your eyes linger on his lips as you try not to look directly into his eyes. The corner of his mouth twitches into a smirk as he gently positions your face higher, silently commanding you to meet his gaze.

His long fingers trace your cheeks as he brings your faces closer together, forehead to forehead, noses bumping. He leaves the softest of kisses on your cheeks before pressing his lips to yours. The kiss is slow and unrushed; he doesn't even bother moving his lips much, just softly keeps them pressed against yours.

"Did you sleep well, baby?" he asks after pulling away, making you unconsciously lean in for more. You nod and nuzzle your cheek deeper into his warm palm. "Yeah? I'm not too surprised," he says, trying to suppress a smirk. You had fallen asleep last night while he was cleaning you up during aftercare, that's how thoroughly he had tired you out, but it's not like you're complaining. You playfully hit his chest..

Michael's chuckle rumbles through his chest, vibrating against your skin as you lay there, feeling the warmth of his body seeping into yours. He shifts slightly, the movement drawing your eyes back down to his impressive length. He notices and smirks again, his hand moving to gently guide your chin, lifting your face to meet his gaze once more.

"I know what you’re thinking about," he begins, his voice a low, seductive purr, “know what you’re craving."

Your breath hitches at his words, the passion in his eyes making your heart flutter. His thumb strokes your cheek, and he leans in, pressing another tender but more heated kiss to your lips. The kiss deepens this time, his tongue gently parting your lips, exploring your mouth with a languid passion that leaves you breathless. When he pulls away, his eyes are dark with desire.

His hands trail from your hips to your naked pussy, cupping it in his large palm, feeling the warm skin against his hand. The sensation sends a shiver up your spine, making you gasp. His finger slips through your folds, gliding between your glistening flesh with ease. He chuckles softly, his breath warm against your ear, "Always so needy, aren't you?"

Before you can respond with an eye roll at his usual teasing, he moves on top of you, spreading your thighs wide. Your breath catches in your throat as you look up at him. He groans at the sight of your drenched pussy, marveling at it for what feels like an eternity. His eyes hungrily stare at your already pulsing clit, desperately begging for attention.

"Do I have to fuck you every morning for you to function properly?"

Your heartbeat quickens at his words, your hips bucking towards him instinctively. He spreads your thighs even farther apart, shushing your whines with an authoritative raise of his brows. "You know what to say," he prompts, his voice low and commanding.

"...Please touch me," you murmur shyly, your voice barely above a whisper.

He decides to tease you further, enjoying the power he has over you, "What was that? I didn't quite hear you."

"Please, Michael," you beg, a little louder this time, "please fuck me."

"That's more like it," he says with a satisfied expression, taking in your already needy state before reaching over to his nightstand. He opens the top drawer and grabs a bottle of lube, squirting a generous amount onto his lengthy shaft. He strokes his cock a few times, ensuring it's well-lubricated. Without the lube, it's impossible for him to ever make love to you without unwanted pain; he's just too big. Whatever's left on his fingers he spreads it across your already glossy folds, circling your hole for longer than is necessary.

He gives you a look, silently making sure you still want this. After you nod enthusiastically he positions himself at your tight entrance, dragging his swollen tip up and down your flesh before gently pushing in the head, watching as your cunt stretches around him. With the events of last night, it's not as difficult as it might have been otherwise. His cockhead slips past your folds with ease, and you already feel yourself clenching around him.

"Needy girl," he murmurs under his breath, his voice thick with desire.

He torturously slowly slides half of his cock into your wetness and pulls out. Repeating this endlessly until his fat length is fully swallowed by your greedy pussy, “There we go,” he breathes out at finally watching your folds stretch around his thickness. His prominent veins deliciously rub against your slick walls, eliciting breathless moans from your lips. Your eyes flutter from the stretch, the sensation overwhelming, head pressing deeper into the plush pillow.

He steals a peck from your lips and squeezes your hips. He thrusts slowly at first, hips grinding smoothly at a mellow pace, savoring every inch of you. Consequently, making you think he's going to go easy on you but when has Michael Jackson ever been predictable?

At a speed that has your eyes widening he presses you further into the bed, folding your legs closer to your shoulders, putting you in a deep mating press that leaves you breathless. Before you can utter more than his name, he drives his hips against the back of your thighs, completely filling you up. “Jesus fucking christ Michael.” you choked out.

He picks up the pace, ramming his meaty cock into your squelching pussy. Your essence creates a white ring around his base, making him groan in pleasure. This new angle allows you to feel every inch of him deeper and deeper inside you. You can't control yourself, your moans growing louder and louder. Your eyes screwed shut, mouth hanging open as filthy whines and moans escape.

As he keeps pounding you into the mattress, he looks at your face and almost cums on the spot. The sounds in the bedroom are sinful - a mix of your moans and his grunts blending together, the bed banging against the wall with every hard thrust of his hips, skin slapping rhythmically.

"Look at you, already going dumb on my cock," he awes, his voice full of adoration.

You nod while not quite sure what you’re agreeing to, his words barely registering in your mind through the haze of pleasure. His smirk widens at your response, watching your nails dig into the sheets. The room starts to fill with the smell of sex, the musky scent only turning him on more.

He continues to fuck you fast and hard, his coily pubic hair rubbing against your throbbing clit, making your hips buck, chasing more of that sweet friction. Your moans grow louder, and if his cock wasn't so good, you'd try to be quieter. But all you can think about is how good he feels inside you, stretching you, filling you completely.

Your heavenly sounds drive him wild, he loves how in the mornings your sleepiness makes you more uninhibited, your cries ringing through his ears. But still, he decides to reach over towards the remote, turning up the volume of the TV to drown out the noises. Although he's never cared about the maids or security hearing him, he knows that when you come down from your high, you'll appreciate this gesture.

As you both lose yourselves in the throes of passion, the maids: Annie, Susie, and Diana make their way towards the entrance of the sprawling estate for their weekly cleaning duties. The warm rays of the sun cast a serene ambiance over the grounds, punctuated by the tranquil chirping of birds, blissfully masking the storm of debauchery that awaits them inside.

"You know, I still can't believe they faked everything," Susie remarks, squinting against the sunlight.

"I'm actually not that surprised, they always seemed fishy to me," Annie replies and smiles at Susie’s scrunched up face.

"Come on now, they named themselves Milli Vanilli, what kind of name is that?" Diana chimes in, adding her two cents to the conversation.

As they ascend the doorsteps and open the front door, entering the home, Annie continues her thought, "I mean, all singers lip-sync now. They're just the ones that got ca—"

Diana abruptly pinches Annie’s arm, cutting her off with a sharp sting, "Ow, what the hell—"

"Girl, shush!" Diana whispers urgently, motioning for silence.

The three maids strain their ears, their attention drawn by the unmistakable erotic sounds emanating from the bedroom—a rhythm of skin slapping against skin, accentuated by soft moans and gasps. Susie instinctively covers her mouth, freezing in place with wide eyes. None of them move a muscle as they process what they are hearing.

"Are they…?" Annie starts tentatively.

"Oh, absolutely." With wide eyes they exchange shocked glances. None of them move a muscle, unsure how to handle the unexpected discovery. Honestly how do you go about stumbling across your boss fucking his wife?

Diana, always the boldest of the trio, begins to tiptoe toward the hallway leading to the bedroom, prompting panicked whispers from the others.

"Diana! What are you doing?" Annie hisses urgently.

Rolling her eyes, Diana smirks back at them. "As if you two aren't just as curious," she retorts, continuing her stealthy approach toward the imposing double doors that shield a scene of raw intimacy unfolding behind them. Annie and Susie exchange resigned groans but follow cautiously behind.

Pressing their ears against the wood, they strain to catch every moan and whispered utterance, their curiosity piqued despite the scandalous nature of their eavesdropping.

"This is crazy," Susie breathes out in a hushed voice.

Unaware of the maids' clandestine surveillance, Michael drives into you with unrelenting force, his powerful hips slamming with yours in a relentless rhythm. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, your senses overwhelmed by the delicious sensation of every ridge and vein of his cock stretching you to your limits. Your back arches instinctively, your slick walls gripping him tightly, sucking him deeper into your warmth.

"Greedy fucking pussy," Michael's voice groans with desire, strained with the effort of holding back. he mutters, the words laced with need. "Squeezing me so tight."

"P-please," you stutter, your voice barely a whisper amid the relentless assault of his powerful thrusts. "It’s too much."

"You can take it," he growls, his breath hot against your skin as he leans closer, his chain dangling temptingly in front of your face. "I know you can. You’re my good girl." His movements are deliberate, claiming you completely.

In a moment of pure instinct, you gently bite his shoulder, your nails digging into his skin as pleasure overtakes you. The bed beneath you rocks with each forceful rock of his hips, the headboard banging rhythmically against the wall. The murmur of the TV in the background does little to mask the crescendo of your combined moans and the sound of skin slapping against skin.

He adjusts his position slightly, angling his length to hit that sweet spot deep inside you. Your entire body trembles with the promise of release, his warm breath against your neck adding to the overwhelming sensations flooding your senses.

Meanwhile, outside the bedroom, Susie murmurs breathlessly, "Y’all hearing this shit?" Her pulse quickens with excitement. "I’ve never heard anything like it."

"That damn TV, can’t hear anything," Diana complains, pressing her ear harder against the wall in a futile attempt to drown out the sounds from within.

"They're really going at it, huh?" Annie whispers, trying to stifle a chuckle. "Didn't know Mr. Jackson had it in him." Her eyes widen with playful astonishment. "I mean, I knew he was passionate, but this...?"

"Lord forgive me for sinning," Susie quips, crossing herself dramatically as Diana giggles at her theatrics. "Oh, stop it, you."

"And half the country thinks he's a virgin," Annie adds with a sly grin. "Isn't that ironic?" Their cheeky banter fades as they're filled with arousal and a twinge of envy, listening intently to the man they've all undoubtedly fantasized about, lost in passion with his beloved behind closed doors.

Back in the bedroom, Michael pulls back to look into your eyes, his own darkened with lust. He grips your jaw and "You like that, baby? You like being fucked like this?" His words send shivers down your spine, your gummy walls instantly tighten around him.

"Yes," you gasp, your voice breaking with need. "God, yes."

"I want you to make a mess on my cock," he murmurs, his voice low and commanding, igniting a fresh wave of heat within you. "Can you do that for me, sweetheart?" You nod eagerly, breathless whimpers escaping your lips.

"Listen to how loud she's moaning," Annie murmurs from outside, her voice tinged with envy. "She must be feeling real good."

As you approach the brink of release, Michael grins devilishly, his movements becoming almost frantic to draw out the exquisite tension building between you. With every plunge of his fat cock sliding deeper and deeper, kissing your cervix, your legs tremble, your body quivering as you hurtle toward release. You cry out as your orgasm rips through you, driving you to a point of true wanton. Uninhibited, sinful moans echo through the room as you claw at the sheets.

Unable to handle your pulsing walls clinging to him he pounds you into the mattress, chasing his own high. As your body is covered in a thin sheen of sweat you try to calm down but the feeling on his bulbous tip flooding your pussy with his hot spurts of cum pushes you towards overstimulation. He sucks love marks on your neck to stifle his groans, as he feels his voluminous cum fill you up completely. He doesn't slow down, riding out your climax, driving you higher and higher until you're nothing but a trembling, incoherent mess beneath him.

Outside, the maids are spellbound, ears pressed against the door, their own breaths quickening in unison with yours.

"Oh my fucking God," Susie whispers, barely audible over the symphony of pleasure spilling from the bedroom.

"Shh!"

The maids, captivated, listen intently to your gasps as you climax. They wait a few more moments, taking in the heavy breathing and murmurs of endearment between you and Michael. Once the sounds start to subside, Diana gestures for them to move. “We should get out of here before they catch us.”

“Uh huh,” Susie agrees, her voice trembling slightly. They tiptoe away from the door, retreating to an empty room down the hall, locking themselves in.

Once inside, they're all breathing heavily, heart pounding in their chests. The air is thick with anticipation, their faces flushed with arousal.

"I- uh…holy shit," Susie’s voice is hushed but tinged with excitement. "She was so loud."

"No shit," Annie replies, her own breath still coming in short bursts. "I mean, it sounded like he was breaking her in half."

“You reckon his dick is really as big as they say?”

“Jesus Christ D, give us a moment to breathe.”

“I’m just saying, that girl’s always so quiet and sweet you know? Don’t think she’d be the type to fake her moans unless that dick is real good.'' Diana shrugs with a little grin on her face.

Susie fans herself with her hands, trying to cool down. “Yeah that's true, she’s always blushing and looking down when she talks to us, but here she is taking all that from him.”

Annie tries to be civil about all this but can’t help but add, “you think they go at it all the time?”

Diana’s grin grows wider as she nods. “You know it ain’t just a quick thing either, he probably takes his time too, making sure she’s thoroughly satisfied.”

“Lucky girl. I wouldn't mind being in her shoes,” Susie says dreamily.

Diana leans against the door, a mischievous glint in her eye. "You and me both,” she continues, “I gotta say, we have to do that again."

Annie looks at her, bewildered. "Are you crazy? We can’t just stand outside their door listening to them fuck."

Diana rolls her eyes. "Oh, come on. With how hard they were going at it, it's not far-fetched to think they'll do it again tonight. We should wait till they go back to their bedroom and listen in again."

"Absolutely not," Annie insists, crossing her arms defiantly. "That's crossing a line."

But Diana persists, knowing the curiosity and desire are mutual. "Oh, stop with this fake righteous act, y’all liked it, admit it."

Annie looks to Susie for support, but she just shrugs, clearly intrigued by the idea. Diana smirks, sensing victory. "See? Even Susie wants more." Susie, usually the shy one, surprises Annie by siding with Diana. "I mean… It was kinda hot.”

Annie huffs but doesn't entirely reject the idea. Diana’s enthusiasm is infectious, and deep down, Annie knows she’s curious too. "Fine. But how are we gonna do it without getting caught?"

Diana’s smirk grows wider. "We just gotta be smart about it. We know their routine. Once they’re back in the bedroom tonight, we’ll sneak up and listen. Simple."

Annie finally relents, though still cautious. "If we get caught, it’s on you, D."

Diana grins, clearly enjoying the thrill. "Trust me, it'll be worth it." The three of them continue to hash out their plot, excitement hanging thick in the air.

The trio finally compose themselves after their illicit eavesdropping and gossip session, deciding it's time to actually get to work. They set about their cleaning tasks, though the air between them crackles with the shared secret. Every now and then, one of them breaks the silence with a hushed comment or a knowing glance, the earlier events still fresh in their minds.

As they tidy the living room, the sound of a door opening draws their attention. Michael and you emerge from the bedroom, your body language relaxed and content, a stark contrast to the intense passion that had filled the room earlier. Michael's arm drapes protectively around your waist as he guides you towards the kitchen, his touch gentle and reassuring.

The maids exchange glances, curiosity piqued once more. "Look at them," Susie whispers, her voice barely above a breath. "She looks so satisfied."

Annie, ever the observant one, nods and without looking up continues to do her job. "Bet she is.”

Diana snickers. "Yeah, she looks fucked out, she was moaning so loud. Damn near broke my eardrums." if they hadn't heard your desperate pleas and whimpers they’d definitely find it hard to question your innocence.

From their vantage point in the living room, they peek into the kitchen. You sit down heavily on one of the chairs, your body spent and exhausted, fingers lazily tracing random patterns on the marble counter as you lean your head on your arm . Michael kisses the top of your head and moves with practiced ease, starting to prepare a quick meal for you. His movements are efficient yet tender, his focus solely on making sure you're taken care of.

As you absentmindedly glance around, your eyes meet Susie's. You smile gently and give her a small wave. For a moment, there's a flash of recognition in her widened eyes before she quickly returns the greeting with a shy nod. She turns back to Annie and Diana, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"She saw me," Susie whispers, her voice a mixture of panic and excitement. "She smiled and waved."

Diana snorts. "Probably too blissed out to care. Look at her. She’s got that post-fuck glow."

Annie rolls her eyes, but a small smile plays on her lips. "You two are incorrigible. But yeah, she does look pretty content."

The trio continues their cleaning, though their attention frequently strays back to the kitchen. They can't help but watch as Michael moves about, his focus unwavering as he prepares something for you. Every now and then, he glances your way, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

"He’s so attentive," Annie murmurs, almost to herself. "I mean, he just spent all that time… you know… and now he’s making sure she’s okay. That’s so sweet."

Diana smirks. "Yeah, he’s definitely got enough left in him for round two tonight. I can tell.”

Susie bites her lip, clearly torn between embarrassment and curiosity. "I just hope we don't get caught."

As they continue to clean, their whispers and giggles fill the room, the earlier intensity of their task somewhat forgotten in light of their newfound entertainment. They dust the same shelves over and over again just because the view of the kitchen is by far the best from that specific angle. The sight of you and Michael in the kitchen, a picture of post-coital domesticity, only fuels their fascination.

Michael, sensing your exhaustion, walks over to you with a plate of food. "Here you go, sweetheart," he says softly, placing the plate in front of you. "You need to eat something."

You smile up at him, your gratitude evident in your eyes. He smiles and sits down next to you, watching you with adoring eyes.

The maids watch this exchange with keen interest. "He’s so good to her," Susie whispers, a note of envy in her voice.

Diana rolls her eyes playfully. "Of course he is. You heard how he was talking to her. ‘You’re my good girl,’" she mimics, her voice dripping with mock lust. "He’s got her wrapped around his finger."

Annie, who has been silent for a while, finally speaks up. "You know, maybe we shouldn’t be talking about them like this. It’s kind of… invasive."

Diana rolls her eyes. "Oh my god, Annie. Live a little. They’re not gonna find out. Besides, it’s not like we’re hurting anyone."

They continue their tasks, though their eyes frequently stray back to the kitchen. The atmosphere is charged with a mix of lingering arousal and the thrill of having witnessed something so private. As they finish up in the living room and move to another part of the house, they can’t help but continue their whispered conversation. "So, we’re still following through with the plan?" Susie asks, her voice tinged with anticipation.

Diana grins. "mhm."

Annie shakes her head, though a small smile plays at her lips. "You two are crazy. But fine. Just this once more, we’re not doing it again."

The trio shares a conspiratorial laugh, their bond strengthened by their shared secret. As they go about their tasks, their minds are already anticipating the evening, eager to once again be a part of the passionate world they had stumbled upon.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, you finish your meal, your energy slowly returning. Michael sits next to you, his hand resting on your thigh, a silent reassurance of his presence.

You lean into him, your head resting on his shoulder. "Thank you," you murmur, your voice soft.

He presses a kiss to your temple. "Anything for you, baby. You know that."

As the day wears on, You both spend the day lounging around the house, basking in the simplicity of each other's company. The day has been a rare gift of leisure, a precious break from Michael's usually hectic schedule. The sun sets lazily, casting a warm glow over everything.

The trio finds themselves looking forward to the evening, their curiosity and desire rekindled. The thrill of the forbidden being too intoxicating to resist.

As the day winds down and evening settles in, the maids finish their duties and prepare to leave. Michael politely, walks them to the door. "Goodnight, ladies," he says with a charming smile.

"Goodnight, Mr. Jackson," they reply, trying to keep their voices steady. They share a quick glance, the events of the day still fresh in their minds, and attempt to leave casually. As the door shuts behind them they walk down the path they’d usually take to return home but they make a turn to the right, making their way towards the back of the house.

You are already in bed, lounging in a tank top and panties, the warm weather prompting you to kick the covers off playfully. The soft light of the setting sun filters through the curtains, casting a golden hue over the room.

Michael steps into the bedroom, locking the door behind him, his gaze finding you instantly. You turn your head towards him and smile, your hand constantly reaching towards his direction, the sight of him filling you with warmth. He shakes his head teasingly as he pulls the covers back onto the bed.

"You always do this," he shakes his head, his voice filled with affection.

You watch him intently as he undresses, his movements slow and deliberate. He strips down to his boxers, revealing his toned physique, and you can’t help but feel a surge of desire. Your eyes are hungry, taking in every inch of his body which is draped in golden sun rays.

He slides into bed next to you, his presence comforting. He gently coos, "Are you feeling hot, baby?" His hand finds your hip, kneading it softly, feeling the soft, warm skin under his palm.

You nod, your eyes half-lidded with desire and mischief. Taking his hand, you guide it down between your legs, pressing his fingers harder against your clothed clit. "I am," you murmur, your voice barely a whisper, signaling where exactly you’re feeling hot.

He chuckles, a low, knowing sound. "You're insatiable," he teases, his fingers starting to move in slow, tantalizing circles. The fabric unsurprisingly dampening in an instant.

Your eyes flutter from the slight pressure and you spread your legs wider, inviting him in. "You love it," you counter with a small smile.

He smirks and admits, moving between your spread thighs, his fingers hooking under your panties and slowly pulling them off. He casually lets them fall on the floor as his eyes are immediately glued to your weeping cunt, already salivating at the view.

Meanwhile, in the backyard, the maids have been waiting, the anticipation building. Diana, ever the ringleader, whispers, "It’s time." They tiptoe towards your patio which is connected to your bedroom. They crouch down next to the glass doors, holding their breath as they try to peer inside without making their presence known. The house is quiet, the only sounds coming from within the intimate space you and Michael share. They inch closer, their breaths shallow and hearts pounding, the thrill of voyeurism electrifying their senses.

Inside the bedroom, the atmosphere is intimate and calm compared to the morning's intensity. Michael lays on his front, his face inches from your glistening pussy, still leaking with his cum from earlier. He bites his lip at the sight, the raw desire in his eyes making you shiver with anticipation.

He gently slides his middle finger into your hole, pushing his cum deeper inside you. "Look at you, so full of me," he murmurs, his voice low and sultry. "Such a good girl, taking everything I give you."

You moan softly, the sensation of his finger inside you making your body hum with pleasure. He parts your glossy folds with his fingers, exposing your sensitive clit. Leaning in, he suckles on the bud, rolling it in his mouth with expert precision.

Peering through the glass, their eyes widen as they take in the sight before them. Michael is between your legs, his face buried in your pussy, his tongue working you with a slow, deliberate rhythm. Your eyes are shut tight, fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as he devours you. The soft glow from the bedside lamp casts a warm light over the scene, highlighting every intimate detail.

"God, seeing it is so much better than just listening," Susie whispers, her voice a mix of awe and arousal.

They press against each other, jostling quietly for the best view. Michael's focus is entirely on you, his eyes closed as he savors your taste, his tongue flicking over your clit with expert precision. The way he worships your body is mesmerizing, each movement filled with intent and passion.

Suddenly, Michael pulls away with a wet pop, your juices glistening on his lips and chin. You whine at the loss of contact, your body trembling with need. "Shh, baby," he soothes, replacing his tongue with his thumb, pressing it against your swollen clit and rubbing gentle circles.

The maids hold their breath, their eyes glued to the scene. Michael prods two fingers against your entrance, teasing you before slowly sliding them in. He breathes in deeply, savoring your scent as his fingers begin to scissor inside you, stretching your tight walls. His wedding band glistens, drenched in your slick, as he pumps his fingers in and out with a steady rhythm, the cold metal adding to the pleasure.

Susie, filled with envy and arousal, leans closer to Annie. "I've never seen a man eat pussy this good," she whispers, her voice tinged with longing.

"He definitely knows where the clit is." Annie giggles and adds.

Diana, unable to contain her excitement, groans softly. "When is he going to take out his cock and fuck her?" she hisses, her eyes locked on the sight of Michael's fingers disappearing inside you.

Annie glares at her. "Oh, I'm sorry, is watching this not enough for you?" she snaps quietly.

Michael's fingers work their magic, the squelching noises filling the room as you whimper and buck your hips against his skilled hands. He watches you intently, his eyes dark with lust, enjoying the way you respond to his touch. "You're so beautiful like this," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. "My girl."

Your whimpers turn into moans, your body arching off the bed as he brings you closer to the edge. "Michael, please," you beg, your voice a breathy whisper.

He leans in, his breath hot against your skin, leaving hickeys along your inner thighs. "What is it, baby?" he asks, his thumb pressing harder against your clit.

"Wanna cum," you gasp, your hands gripping the sheets tightly.

He smirks, his fingers curling inside you to hit that sweet spot. "Then come for me, sweet girl," he whispers, his voice a low growl.

The maids watch in rapt attention, their own bodies reacting to the scene before them. Susie's cheeks are flushed, her breath quickening. "I can't believe we're actually seeing it this time," she whispers, her voice trembling with excitement.

"Look at how he handles her. It's like he knows exactly what she needs." Annie breathes, her eyes wide with awe.

Diana, her frustration mounting, shifts restlessly. "I want to see him fuck her," she insists, her voice a low whine. "Wanna see what his cock looks like."

Annie shoots her a sharp look. "Just be patient," she snaps. "Enjoy what we're seeing now."

Inside the room, Michael's fingers move faster, his thumb rubbing tight circles on your clit. Your moans grow louder, your body trembling with the intensity of your impending orgasm. "I- I’m close" you cry out, your voice breaking with need.

"There there," he murmurs, his fingers never faltering. "Let go for me. Cum all over my fingers."

With a final flick of his tongue and a deep thrust of his fingers, you shatter. Your orgasm crashes over you, your body convulsing with pleasure. Michael holds you through it, his mouth and fingers never ceasing their movements, prolonging your release until you are spent and trembling.

The maids are transfixed, their own arousal palpable. "y’all…" Susie whispers, her voice filled with need. "I didn't even know it was possible to cum that hard just from fingers."

Annie nods, her eyes still fixed on the scene before her. "He’s Michael Jackson, what did you expect," she murmurs.

Diana, her eyes dark with lust, can barely contain herself. "I want to see more," she insists, her voice a desperate whisper.

As you come down from your high, panting, Michael gently withdraws his fingers, bringing them to his lips. "You taste so good," he purrs, his eyes locked on yours. You stretch weakly, your body still trembling. Michael licks his drenched fingers, savoring your taste as his eyes lock onto yours with a smoldering intensity. He leans in to give your clit a soft, lingering kiss, a gesture of tenderness.

As he moves off the bed to take off his boxers, you whimper from the loss of contact, your body still trembling from the recent orgasm. You always become so clingy afterward, seeking his warmth and touch even if it's scorching hot outside.

“I’m right here, baby,” he coos gently, his voice soothing as he pulls down his boxers, freeing his throbbing cock. The maids, hidden just outside the glass doors, gasp in unison at the sight. Michael’s heavy shaft sways with his every move, a sight both impressive and intimidating.

“Goodness gracious, that thing is massive,” Diana whispers, her eyes wide with arousal.

The others nod, their mouths hanging open in shock. “No wonder she always looks so happy,” Susie murmurs. “It’s hard not to when your man’s packing like that.”

Annie notices Diana’s hazy expression, her eyes glued to Michael’s meaty cock as she licks her lips. Annie nudges her sharply. “Stop drooling, Diana.”

Susie giggles, trying to stifle the sound. “Yeah, you look like you just came.”

Diana shoots them a side-eye, irritated but unable to tear her gaze away from Michael as he strokes his meaty shaft, preparing himself. She unconsciously leans forward, hands pressing against the glass doors, her desire overriding her sense of caution. The door creaks in the silent room, a loud and unmistakable sound.

Annie, eyes wide with realization, hisses urgently, “Wait, no!”

But it’s too late. Packed together like sardines, when Diana pushes forward, the glass doors swing open, and they all tumble into the room with a loud, resounding thud. The sudden intrusion shatters the intimate atmosphere, and for a moment, time seems to freeze.

You gasp in horror, your eyes wide as you scramble to cover yourself. Michael’s head snaps around, his expression shifting from surprise to fury as he sees the maids he had just bid goodnight to, now sprawled awkwardly on the floor. They remain frozen, their eyes wide with horror at having been caught.

“Fuck,” Annie whispers, the word barely audible but carrying the weight of their collective dread.

Michael’s eyes blaze with anger, but his first instinct is to protect you. He immediately grabs the covers and drapes them over your body, shielding you from their prying eyes. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, whispering, “Stay here.”

You try to argue, your voice trembling, “But Michael-”

He cuts you off with a commanding look, one you don’t often see, filled with authority and protectiveness. “I said stay,” he repeats firmly.

Nodding obediently, you clutch the sheets closer to your face, your heart pounding in your chest. Michael turns halfway, careful not to expose himself completely, and fixes the maids with a venomously calm stare.

“Wait in my office,” he orders, his tone cold and tolerating no argument.

The trio stares dumbly for a few seconds, processing his words before they scramble to their feet, tripping over themselves in their haste to leave. Broken apologies tumble from their lips as they run out of the room, their faces flushed with shame and embarrassment.

Once they’re gone, Michael turns back to you, his expression softening. “Are you okay?” he asks gently, his hands cupping your face.

You nod, though your heart is still racing. “I guess…I'm just shocked.”

“I’ll take care of this,” he promises, his voice filled with a protective resolve. He kisses your forehead again, then stands, pulling on his discarded boxers and trousers. “Stay here and try to relax, okay?”

You nod again, watching him as he leaves the room, your anxiety mixing with a strange sense of reassurance at his presence.

Michael leaves you in the bedroom, his heart heavy with both fury and a fierce protectiveness. As he walks down the hallway, the moonlight filters through the windows, casting long shadows and illuminating his path. Each step he takes echoes softly against the wooden floor, the sound mingling with the seething rage that burns within him. His fists clench and unclench at his sides, every muscle in his body taut with anger.

In the office, the maids are huddled together, in a state of panic, their faces filled with dread. They had thought themselves clever, sneaking around to watch, but now the reality of their actions is sinking in.

“Oh my god, we’re so screwed,” Susie whispers, wringing her hands nervously.

Annie turns to Diana. "This was all your idea!" she hisses, her voice trembling with fear.

Diana glares back, her own nerves frayed. "Oh, don't you dare put this all on me! You wanted this as much as I did!"

Susie, caught in the middle, raises her hands in a futile attempt to calm them. "Guys, please, this isn’t the time. We need to stick together."

The door swings open, and they all jump, turning to see Michael standing in the doorway, his expression a mask of controlled fury. He steps into the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click that feels like the final nail in their coffin.

“Explain yourselves,” he demands, his voice low and dangerous.

The maids exchange panicked glances, none of them wanting to be the first to speak. Finally, Annie steps forward, her voice trembling. “We... we’re so sorry, Mr. Jackson. We didn’t mean to intrude. We just...”

“Just what?” he snaps, his patience fraying.

Susie whispers, her voice barely audible, "We were just curious..."

Michael raises his brows, his eyes narrowing. "Curious? Curious?!” he repeats, louder this time. The word hangs in the air, heavy with disdain.

He loses his cool for a moment, his voice rising as he yells, "Are you out of your fucking minds?!"

The maids shudder, their fear palpable. They are totally fucked, and they know it. “We’re truly so sorry,” Annie stammers, her voice breaking. “We never meant for this to happen.”

Michael’s expression remains hard, his eyes cold as ice. “You think an apology is enough? You think saying sorry will fix this? You’ve breached a level of trust that’s hard to come back from.” Michael’s eyes bore into each of them, his disappointment palpable.

Michael takes a deep breath, trying to rein in his temper. “What gave you the brilliant idea to spy on us?”

There’s a heavy silence as none of them dare to speak. Michael’s patience wears thin. “I’m not going to repeat my question.”

Silence fills the room as the maids exchange terrified glances. Finally, Diana stutters, "We... we eavesdropped earlier this morning." Susie starts to tear up silently, her guilt and fear overwhelming her.

Michael breathes out heavily, the sound like a hiss through clenched teeth. "Sit," he commands, his tone brooking no argument.

They scramble to comply, their hands shaking as they take their seats. Michael retrieves a folder from the desk drawer, pulling out several documents and laying one in front of each of them with a pen.

"Sign," he says, the word clipped and devoid of any warmth.

Annie furrows her brows as she reads the document. It's a non-disclosure agreement. It hits her like a punch to the gut: he's making them sign NDAs to ensure they don't blabber about this to anyone, especially the press. Without reading through it, they all sign. Their hands shake so much that their signatures are barely legible.

Michael retrieves the signed documents, his eyes never leaving theirs. He stares at them, his gaze hard and unforgiving. "Consider yourselves fired," he says, each word delivered with cutting precision.

The maids’ faces pale further, the reality of their actions hitting them like a sledgehammer.

They swallow hard, nodding silently. Without needing further prompting, they rise from their seats and make their way out of the office, their footsteps heavy with the weight of their actions. As they exit the estate, the night air feels colder. As they walk down the long driveway and the gravity of their situation sinks in.

As they reach the gates, they look back at Neverland ranch one last time, the grandeur and beauty now a stark contrast to their current despair. They exit, their steps heavy and their minds filled with regret.

619 notes · View notes

michaelsfavgirl · 27 days ago

Text

tied & taken

Pairing: Michael Jackson x fem!reader

Synopsis: Michael finally indulges one of his most sinful fantasies: tying you to the bed like the perfect present you are and fucking you stupid over and over, until you're utterly spent.

Tags: smut, bondage, blindfold, pre-established safe words, dom!michael, sub!reader, nipple play, oral (fem receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, squirting, overstimulation, dom/sub undertones, rough sex, dick too big (but that's not new here).

Word Count: 5k

Requested: yes/no

Author’s Note: let's finish this year with a bang!

Links: navigation | masterlist | taglist

The room glows softly, the only light coming from the twinkling Christmas tree in the corner. Outside the frosted windows snow falls in lazy flakes, blanketing the world in white. Inside, though, your world is anything but calm. Goosebumps pebble your skin and your heart beats faster as you lie back on the bed, completely bare, just as naked as he is.

Above you, Michael’s chain dangles, catching the warm light. It sways slightly as he leans over you. Your breathing hitches when his warm fingers wrap gently around your wrist, bringing it up to the headboard. The luxurious red silk ribbon glides against your skin, making you shiver for reasons that have nothing to do with the winter weather.

He works slowly, taking his time, as though savoring each second. His hands are careful but firm, tying the ribbon around your wrist and securing it to the headboard. When he finishes, he takes the loose ends and ties a small, elegant bow. It’s almost ridiculous how much care he’s putting into the details.

Your eyes wander up to his face, and you catch a look in his eyes that sends another shiver through you. It’s a look of control, of desire, and something more—something deeper, a hunger that he’s clearly been holding back. How long has he been waiting for this? The thought makes your cheeks warm.

He notices your dazed expression and gently tilts your chin up, drawing you back into the moment. “What color?” he asks, his voice low, grounding you even as it makes your heart race.

For a second, your focus drifts to the slickness trailing down your slit, a mortifying reminder of how ready your body is for him. You swallow hard, blinking up at him before quietly responding, “green.”

Michael’s lips curl into a satisfied smile. “Good girl,” he murmurs, pressing a soft, warm kiss to your forehead.

He moves to your other wrist, repeating the process with the same care. Once it’s tied you tilt your head up, looking at your wrists and you tug lightly, testing the bonds. They hold firm but not uncomfortably so.

Michael notices and reaches out to cradle your cheek. His thumb strokes the soft skin there as he asks, “Want me to loosen them up? Don’t want my baby to be uncomfortable.”

The tenderness in his voice makes your chest ache, and you shake your head, unable to look away from his deep brown eyes. How does he do that? How does he manage to be so gentle and so commanding all at once? It’s maddening and intoxicating.

“Use your words,” he prompts, his thumb tracing your bottom lip.

You feel heat rising in your face, and you whisper, “No.”

A proud smile spreads across his face, and he coos softly, “Just like that.”

His big hands begin their descent, trailing down your body with deliberate slowness. When his fingers brush against your breasts, your nipples pebble even harder, the mix of the cold air and your arousal making them hypersensitive. He pauses there, cupping your tits in his warm hands and giving them special attention. His thumbs brush over your stiff buds, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your pussy.

Your breathing picks up, shallow and quick, as he kneads your breasts, his focus so intense it makes you wonder. What other freaky shit is he into? The thought almost makes you giggle, a soft smile tugging at your lips.

Michael notices immediately. His head cocks to the side, an amused smile playing on his lips as he looks down at you. “What’s got you smiling, huh?”

You quickly shake your head. “Nothing,” you mumble, trying to stifle the grin.

“Nothing?” he repeats, his smirk widening. “You sure about that?”

Before you can answer, he leans down, his lips wrapping around one of your nipples. The teasing tug of his mouth erases the smile from your face in an instant, replacing it with a gasp as heat pools low in your belly. He sucks gently at first, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak before he pulls back slightly, only to take it deeper into his mouth.

Your head falls back against the pillows, your body arching into him as his hands greedily squeeze your waist. He alternates between your breasts, worshiping each one with his lips and tongue. Your tied wrists tug instinctively at the ribbons.

“Michael,” you breathe, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

He hums in response, the vibration against your sensitive nipple sending a shockwave through you. His hands slide lower, skimming over your ribs and settling on your hips. He grips you firmly, holding you in place as his mouth continues its assault on your chest.

He finally let your nipple slip free, a thin string of saliva still connecting him to you. The sight alone has your breath catching, but it’s the way he leans back, his movements slow, that makes you squirm.

Michael’s body shifts, his broad shoulders and toned chest glistening faintly under the soft light. His cock, thick and heavy, bobs between his legs as he moves, curving downwards from how fat it is. His tip peeking from the hood all glossy from his precum. You can’t help but stare, your mouth watering at the sight. You’re so caught up in the sight of him that you barely register his hands sliding down to your ankle, his lips pressing soft, heated kisses up the length of your leg.

He reaches your knee, his kisses growing more seductive. His gaze locks with yours, and the lookon his face tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing. Slowly, he wraps the red ribbon around your bent knee, his fingers brushing your skin as he ties it off. The silk is soft but secure as he ties it to the headboard, your knee now folded up so tightly that it’s nearly touching your shoulder. The position leaves you gasping softly, the exposed stretch of your body making your cheeks burn with embarrassment.

He leans over to do the same with your other leg. His cock hovers dangerously close to your slippery folds, and you let out a small, involuntary whimper when it doesn’t quite touch you. Michael’s smirk deepens at your disappointment. When he finishes tying your other knee to the headboard, he finally sits back on his heels, surveying you like an artist admiring their masterpiece.

You swallow hard, testing the restraints. Your legs can barely move, and the angle leaves you completely exposed. Your pussy is spread wide, glistening in the soft light, your swollen clit and drooling entrance on full display. You can feel the heat radiating off your body, your vulnerability making your cheeks burn hotter. You look up at him, searching his face for any sign of mercy, but all you find is his smug, knowing smile.

“You look perfect, sweet girl,” he murmurs, his large hands pressing against the backs of your thighs. He pushes them closer to your chest, folding you even tighter, and the motion has your walls clenching around nothing. A desperate whine escapes your lips as your head tilts back against the pillows.

Michael bites his lip and lets go of your legs, leaning back slightly as he picks up another length of ribbon. The crimson fabric slides through his fingers as he looks at you thoughtfully. “Sure about this too?” he asks, his tone teasing.

You nod quickly, your movements impatient, feeling like you might combust if he doesn’t touch you soon.

He tsks softly, shaking his head. “What did I say about using your words like a big girl?”

A frustrated whine escapes your throat. Your body is strung so tight that you feel like you might snap. “I’m sure,” you say through gritted teeth, your voice wavering. “Just… please.”

Michael leans forward, his hand cradling your cheek. His thumb brushes against your heated skin as he presses a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. The tenderness soothes you slightly, but it’s not enough to ease the ache between your legs. While kissing you, his hands move to the sides of your head, lifting it gently.

The blindfold slides over your eyes, plunging you into darkness. The sudden loss of sight heightens every other sensation—the warmth of his hands, the faint scent of his cologne, the sound of your own uneven breathing filling the room.

When Michael pulls back, the bed shifts slightly under his weight. You strain your ears, trying to figure out where he is or what he’s doing, but all you’re met with is silence. The anticipation is maddening, your chest heaving as you try to steady your breathing.

“Michael?” you call out softly, your voice trembling.

There’s no response, only the sound of the bed creaking slightly. Did he get off the bed? Is he watching you from somewhere else in the room? You feel so exposed, so utterly helpless, and it’s almost too much to bear.

Michael watches you from his spot on the bed, a satisfied smirk on his face. He can see how worked up you are, your chest rising and falling rapidly, your thighs trembling in their bonds. The sight of you like this—vulnerable, needy, and completely at his mercy—makes his cock twitch painfully. But he’s not done teasing you yet.

“Relax, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing. “Remember your safeword?” you nod and lick your lips. He hums satisfied.

Michael’s presence looms, his gaze burning into you even though you can’t see him. You can feel him watching, his attention laser-focused on your completely exposed form. The silence is maddening.

He sits back on his heels, stroking himself slowly, his hand wrapping firmly around his thick shaft. He’s been hard for what feels like hours, teasing you and himself, drawing this game out longer than you thought possible. His eyes stay glued to your puffy cunt. The way you’re spread open for him, your knees tied up near your shoulders, your weeping pussy on full display—it’s enough to make his cock leak with need.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice soft but edged with heat. “So needy. Always begging without saying a word.”

You don’t respond, your throat too tight, your body too aware of the weight of his gaze. He doesn’t need an answer anyway. His thumb swipes over the leaking head of his cock, spreading the precum as he strokes himself lazily.

The moment his tip makes contact with your clit, you gasp, your body jolting at the sudden stimulation. The wet, heavy tap makes your eyes flutter against the ribbon.

He lifts his cock away just as you instinctively try to grind your hips upward. The movement leaves you empty, aching for more, and you let out a frustrated whine. Your wrists and knees tug at the restraints, but there’s no give. You’re completely helpless.

“Ah, ah,” he coos, his tone mocking but affectionate. “Don’t get too greedy now.”

Greedy? The word makes you want to scoff. He’s been tormenting you all day, bringing you to the edge of release over and over, only to pull back at the last second. Your body is on fire but you bite your tongue. You know better than to talk back—it’ll only give him an excuse to draw this out even longer.

Michael notices the way your lips purse, the telltale sign of your irritation. It makes him smile. “Atta girl,” he murmurs, leaning forward to hover over your bound frame. His weight shifts the bed, and you feel the heat of his body radiating down to you.

He stops close to your face, his breath ghosting over your lips. You can feel how near he is, so close that you’re sure he’s about to kiss you. Your body tenses in anticipation, your lips parting slightly as you tilt your head up to meet him. But he moves at the last second, just out of reach, and your head falls back against the pillow with a frustrated sigh.

He chuckles softly, the sound low and teasing. “What’s wrong, baby?” he asks, his voice dripping with amusement. “Were you expecting something?”

You pout, your lips trembling slightly. He’s playing with you, toying with you, and you can’t even see his expression. It’s infuriating.

Feeling a pang of guilt at your defeated expression, Michael finally closes the distance. His lips press against yours, warm and tender, an apology of sorts. You sigh into the kiss, your body relaxing for the first time in what feels like hours. His tongue slips into your mouth and for a few blissful moments, he gives in to you, letting you taste him, feel him, and your heart swells at the intimacy.

But it’s over too soon. He pulls back, leaving you breathless, and begins trailing kisses down your body. His mouth moves slowly, savoring every inch of you. He kisses along the curve of your neck, down to your collarbone, his hands greedily squeezing your sides as he goes. His lips continue their journey down your stomach. His hands knead your thighs, his fingers pressing into your soft flesh as he takes his time worshipping you.

On instinct you tilt your head upward as if that will help you see something—anything—but the blindfold holds firm, the dark fabric blocking out all light. You can’t even find the smallest gap to peek through. Frustrated, you let your head fall back against the pillows again.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” Michael says, his voice muffled against your inner thigh. “Completely helpless. Completely mine.”

Your walls clench instinctively around nothing. The need inside you is almost unbearable. But Michael doesn’t seem to be in any hurry. He’s savoring this—savoring you—and it only makes your desperation grow.

He reaches your dripping core, and your breath catches as you feel the first teasing puff of warm air against your sensitive, slick folds. The sensation is maddening, a small, desperate whimper escapes your lips, and you can feel the corners of his smirk even though you can’t see it.

“Patience, my girl,” he murmurs.

“If you’re good, I’ll give you what you want.”

His words hang in the air, heavy with promise. But even as he speaks, he doesn’t touch you. Instead, he just stares, his dark eyes drinking in the sight of your swollen, sticky folds. Your hips jerk instinctively, seeking any kind of relief.

You hear him chuckle softly. “So desperate,” he says, more to himself than to you. “But that’s exactly how I want you.”

Before you can respond, his tongue finally makes contact. The first broad lick of his hot, wet tongue over your folds pulls a choked gasp from your lips. He doesn’t rush, taking his time as he laps at you, savoring the tangy sweetness of your slick like it’s his favorite dessert. He drags his tongue slowly along every crevice, deliberately avoiding your throbbing button.

He sucks gently on your folds, his lips closing around them as he alternates between soft kisses and teasing nibbles. His tongue dips lower, swirling around your entrance before sliding inside, the wet heat of it making you clench helplessly around the intrusion. A shaky moan escapes your lips as your body arches toward him. But still he ignores your clit, leaving the most sensitive part of you aching for attention.

“Please,” you whisper, your voice breaking.

He pulls back just enough to speak, not wanting to be too separated from your delicious cunt. “Please, what?” he asks, his tone casual, almost amused.

Your cheeks burn hotter, and you swallow hard, trying to find the words. “I- I’ve been good,” you manage to say, your voice trembling. “I’ve been so good.”

He hums thoughtfully, his wet lips brushing against your inner thigh as he considers your plea. “You think so?” he asks, his tone playful, almost taunting. “You think you’ve earned it?”

“Yes, yes,” you whisper. “Please, I-”

But he doesn’t let you finish. His mouth is on you again, his tongue delving into every crevice, every fold, tasting you so thoroughly it’s almost obscene. But still, he avoids your clit, leaving it untouched, the neglect driving you to the brink of madness.

Your body trembles as you tug at the silk ribbons holding you in place. The heightened sensations of being so bound and blindfolded only add to the insatiable craving. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You want to beg, to cry, to scream—but you bite your lip, trying to hold back.

He notices, of course. He always notices. “Poor thing,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. “You look like you’re about to cry. Is it that bad?”

“Yes,” you sob, unable to hold back any longer. “Just let me-”

Relenting his tongue moves higher. The first deliberate flick of his tongue over your clit sends a shock wave of pleasure through you, and you cry out, your entire body jerking against the restraints. He doesn’t stop this time, his tongue flicking your sensitive nub with just the right amount of pressure.

Your head falls back, a high-pitched moan spilling from your lips as the pleasure builds rapidly. He holds you there, right on the edge, his lips sealed tightly around your pulsing clit.

And when you finally cum, it’s like a dam breaking. Your body shaking as you cry out his name, your voice cracking with the intensity of it. He doesn’t stop, his tongue and lips drawing out every last shudder, every last tremor, until you’re left gasping for air, completely spent.

Michael pulls back slowly, his lips unlatching and covered with your slick, his eyes dark and satisfied as he watches you come down from the high. “Good girl,” he murmurs, his voice soft and full of praise. “So good for me.”

The room is silent except for your ragged breaths and the faint creak of the mattress beneath you. The blindfold remains snug over your eyes, leaving your other senses to compensate. Every little noise—his breathing, the subtle shift of his weight—feels magnified.

You try to move, to close your legs and shield your overstimulated pussy, but the silk ribbons binding your knees to the headboard keep you helplessly spread. The effort only causes the restraints to tug against your skin, a reminder of just how exposed you are. You whimper softly, the vulnerability making you hyper aware of your slick dripping onto the sheets beneath you.

A low chuckle rumbles from him. “Trying to close up on me?” he teases, his voice dark and smooth. “Thought you know better than that.”

You hear him shift closer, and then his fingers are there, just barely ghosting over your drenched folds. The touch is featherlight. Your hips buck instinctively, seeking more contact, but his hand moves away just as quickly, leaving you panting and desperate.

“So twitchy,” he says. “So sensitive. That’s what happens when my pretty girl is all tied up, isn’t it?”

You swallow hard, your chest rising and falling as his fingers return, this time pressing gently against your quivering entrance. The tip of one finger dips inside, just enough to make you whimper, your walls fluttering around the intrusion. He doesn’t push further, though, just toys with your hole, circling and teasing until you’re nearly in tears again from the frustration.

“Look at you,” he coos. “Just made you cum, yet your greedy little pussy wants more, doesn't she?”

His fingers finally press deeper, sliding knuckle-deep into your wet depth. Your mouth falls open as the stretch sends a jolt of pleasure through you, but it’s still not enough—not nearly enough.

He curls his fingers inside you, brushing against that sweet spot that makes your back arch and a sharp gasp leave your lips. “There we go,” he says, his other hand reaching down to wrap around his stiff, lengthy cock. He strokes himself slowly, his eyes locked on your needy cunt. The bulbous tip of his cock glistens with precum, and he lets a thick bead of it drip onto your folds, mix with your juices.

“Look at this mess,” he murmurs, his fingers moving in and out of you in a steady rhythm. “No one gets to see you like this, only me.”

He adds another finger, spreading you open, the stretch deliciously overwhelming, and you cry out, involuntary tugging at the restraints. His free hand tightens around his cock, fisting the veiny length as he watches you squirm and writhe beneath him.

He slows his movements, his fingers sliding out of you as you whine at the loss. You can hear him licking his fingers clean, the wet, sinful sounds making your cheeks burn. “Are you sure about this?” he asks, his voice sincere, lacking that teasing tone. “Once I’m inside you, I won’t be able to hold back. You know that, don’t you, my clever girl?”

“mhm,” you gasp, nodding vigorously. “I know, I know.”

He chuckles softly at your eagerness. “Good,” he says.

He positions himself at your entrance. His girthy, meaty cock presses against your sticky lips, teasing and testing your limits. Your breath hitches, the tremors running through you making it impossible to stay still. He notices, of course, his sharp eyes drinking in every quiver of your restrained body.

“Shh, easy now,” he murmurs softly, his voice a low, soothing rumble. His hand caresses your hip before gripping it firmly, his possessive touch grounding you. “Need you to relax, sweetheart. If you don’t, I won’t be able to fit.” His tone is gentle but laced with command.

You nod obediently, biting your lip as you try to relax, though the very thought of his monstrous size has your walls fluttering in anticipation. His hand tightens on your hip, anchoring you in place as he lines himself up. He shifts his weight slightly, and you feel the warmth of his tip nudging at your entrance. Slowly, he slides the glossy head through your folds, mixing his precum with your slick.

With a slow, deliberate motion, he begins to push inside, his tip stretching you open. A whimper escapes your lips as your body struggles to accommodate his girth, the slight sting of the stretch making your eyes flutter behind the blindfold. He groans deeply, the sound guttural and full of restraint as he fights the urge to shove himself in all at once.

“Fuck,” he mutters, his voice deep.

He glides in deeper, each thick inch making your body tense. His hold on your soft hip tightens, his thumb brushing over your skin in an attempt to soothe you. When he finally buries himself to the hilt, his heavy balls pressing firmly against your ass, you let out a strangled cry, your head pressing back into the pillow as your mouth falls open. The stretch is overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pain that leaves you breathless.

He stays still for a moment, letting you adjust, your folds stretched impossibly wide around him. “Such a perfect present for me, stuffed full of my cock.” His voice is thick with pride and lust.

His words send a flush of heat to your cheeks. Before you can respond, he leans down, his broad chest pressing against yours as his lips capture yours in a hungry, sloppy kiss. His kisses swallowing your whimpers as he devours you.

You lose yourself in the feeling, your senses overwhelmed by the feel of his lips, the press of his body, the stretch of his cock buried deep inside you. Then, without warning, he starts to move, his hips pulling back before driving forward with a powerful thrust. The force of it knocks the breath from your lungs, and you gasp against his lips, your moans spilling freely as he sets a brutal, unrelenting pace.

Each plunge is hard and fast, his hips pistoling against the back of your thighs, the wet slap of skin against skin filling the room. The squelching sounds of your soaked pussy are loud, debaucherous, and they seem to drive him even wilder. You can feel the creamy ring of your juices forming at the base of his cock, coating his dark, coiled pubic hair, and the thought makes your pout. It’s a shame you can’t see it for yourself.

“God, baby,” he groans, his voice strained with effort and pleasure. “You’re making such a mess on my cock.”

Your wrists tug at the ribbons binding you to the headboard, the tension making your arms ache slightly, but the sensation only adds to the intensity. Your tits bounce with each powerful thrust, your body rocking against the mattress as he takes you with an almost animalistic fervor. His groans mix with your cries, the smell of sex filling the air.

His lips latch onto your neck, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin as he nips and sucks, marking you as his. Each bite sends jolts of heat through your body, claiming you in a way that feels primal and possessive. You tilt your head to the side, giving him more access, even as his pace leaves you gasping for air. His cock hammers against your cervix with each thrust, and the pressure makes your legs tremble and your toes curl.

The blindfold over your eyes grows damp as tears of pleasure stream down your face. The fabric, already a deep red, darkens as it absorbs the evidence of your ecstasy. Your outstretched arms and legs ache from being bound for so long, but the sheer intensity of being impaled on his cock makes the discomfort fade into the background. Your entire world narrows to the sensation of him, the overwhelming stretch, the animalistic rhythm, and the heat of his body pressing against yours.

Your release builds quickly, your walls fluttering around him as your body reaches its limit. Without warning, you squirt, a gush of liquid soaking his cock, his abdomen, and his thighs. The release is powerful and uncontrollable, a strangled cry escapes your lips. He groans in response, his voice rough and laced with desire.

He curses under his breath, his hips never faltering. If anything, he fuck you harder, the wetness only spurring him on. The bed creaks louder, rocking with his movements, and you swear it might break under the force of his pounding. “Come on, baby, give it to me. Drench cock.”

Your body spasms, squirting again and again as he drives you into overstimulation. Your juices spray in every direction, soaking everything. The sensitivity becomes unbearable, and you start to shake, your voice high-pitched and breathy as you babble incoherently. “It’s too much, too much!” you manage to whine, your words slurred from the overwhelming sensations coursing through you.

He leans down, his lips brushing your ear as he coos softly. “Shh, I know, sweetheart, I know. But you can take it. Just one more for me, yeah?”

His fingers find your slippery, swollen clit, rubbing it in tight circles. The additional stimulation sends your mind into a haze, and you scream as another orgasm tears through you. Your gummy walls clamp down on his cock, milking him as you soak him once more, your body convulsing uncontrollably. Your hands tug at the ribbons, and your hard nipples graze against his chest, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through you.

He groans loudly, his hips stuttering as your tightness pushes him over the edge. With a final, deep thrust, he buries himself inside you, his heavy cock throbbing as he spills his hot, milky load into your fluttering pussy. The warmth of his release soothes your overstimulated walls, but the sheer volume has it spilling out of you, dripping down to coat your asshole and the sheets beneath you.

He stays there, pressed against you, his length still buried inside as he lets you come down from the high. His rough demeanor softens as he reaches up to gently remove the blindfold, revealing your tear-streaked, flushed face. His fingers brush your hair back as he cups your cheek tenderly.

You let your eyes adjust. Gaze drifting to his face illuminated by the twinkling tree in the corner. You can see his curls sticking to his forehead and his lips parted, breathing heavily. What a man.

“You okay?” he asks softly, his voice filled with concern. “Was that too much?”

You shake your head, your body too spent to form words. He presses a kiss to each of your wrists before carefully untying them, his touch delicate and soothing. He does the same to your knees, unbinding them and letting your legs fall limply to the bed. The relief of being able to move again is immediate, and you groan softly as the ache in your limbs starts to fade.

“I know, I know,” he murmurs, his tone filled with affection. He grabs a glass of water from the nightstand and helps you drink, holding the glass to your lips as you sip slowly. Once you’re rehydrated, he sets it aside and slides out of you with deliberate care, your walls weakly squeezing around him, his softened cock wet with your combined release. He groans quietly, clearly struggling to keep himself from getting hard again as he watches your pussy gape, leaking his cum.

“God,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair. “We should do this again someday.”

You manage a weak laugh, your voice hoarse from crying out. “Only if I get to tie you up next time.”

He smirks, shaking his head. “Absolutely not.”

You pout, rolling your eyes, but a mischievous smile tugs at the corner of your lips. You’re already scheming on how you’ll get him to agree. After all, isn’t he the one who always says, “happy wife, happy life?” Well this is exactly what will make you really happy.

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