#this is it era

[michaelsfavgirl]

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.

© michaelsfavgirl 2024

Taglist: @theladyinmoscow @yeriminist @yeaiamme2 @helloaugustmoon @cinnamoncunt @theladyofmylife @minekarina @kionaaa @theskinniestjackson-denny @leociinta @graciegizmo3184 @theasexual-jackson @mrsmikaelsxn @fallinlovewithevil @armasbw @b3rk1ey @sirusxx @maybe7tommorow @falllovesomemichealjackson @moonuoi @iconsmjj

[bejeweled-wahlberg]

The MJ Eras When HSM Was Born

TW Mentions Of Death

Each MJ era is the era where HSM were born

Summer Was Born in 2006 as you can tell from the picture of Michael from the world music awards

Michaela was Born 1 year later in 2008 and the picture of Michael was in the ebony magazine

Henry(Royal) was born around the This Is It era and this is the year that Michael does die and 2 months after his death Sunset Dies from complications of Childbirth

[mjj-nostalgia]

My new MJ Fan Discord Server!

I went ahead and made one then LOL

18+ only!

I am hoping to provide a positive and safe space for fellow MJ fans! There will be plenty of space to fangirl over Michael but plenty of space to share other things as well such as artwork or fanfiction! Or just a photo from your day!

If you'd like to join, let me know and I'll send you the link!!

Photo of channels so far under read more!

[mollybeenoel]

Source: poeticalphotos

[laurenillustrated]

Mystery Inc. but it’s the 1890s

Who had late Victorian Scooby Doo on their 2024 bingo card? Hmm?

The idea came to me when I was thinking about Sherlock Holmes and then remembered the iconic mystery solving gang hehe

[soaptaculart]

Postcanon Farcille indulgence

[pakchoys]

our secret

[idontmindifuforgetme]

ever since i was a little girl i knew i wanted to have life experiences that were so utterly different from everyone else in my age group

[wasabi-gumdrop]

local ladies man’s signature move totally useless against autistic monster enthusiast. more on Kabru’s fumble era at 6

[michaelsfavgirl]

porn stash

Pairing: Michael Jackson x fem!reader

Synopsis: Alone at home, consumed by boredom, you stumble upon Michael's secret stash of tapes. Lost in curiosity, you're oblivious to his return until he catches you red-handed.

Tags: smut, established relationship, breach of privacy, snooping through his stuff, mentions of pornography, masturbation, getting caught, p in v, a singular pussy spank, doggy style, squirting, overstimulation, no creampie :( dom!michael, sub!reader

Word Count: 5.4k

Requested: yes/no

Author’s Note: we're back to smut let's goooo

Links: navigation | masterlist | taglist

You wake up from your nap with a slow blink, stretching lazily as the afternoon sunlight filters through the curtains. The house is quiet, almost too quiet. You groan, flipping over on the bed, hoping to hear the soft sounds of Michael coming back from the studio soon. But instead, there's just silence.

With a sigh, you grab the remote from the nightstand and flick on the TV, hoping to find something that will pass the time until he gets home. The screen buzzes to life, and you start scrolling through channels, trying to find something, anything, that might hold your attention for a while. But nothing works. 

The shows are cheesy, the dialogue cringe-worthy, and after five minutes of trying to force yourself through a scene, you roll your eyes and switch it off. “Ugh,” you groan, tossing the remote aside. Boredom starts creeping in fast, the empty house feeling too big, too still, and your mind begins to wander.

Your eyes lazily drift across the bedroom, over the familiar space, the faint scent of Michael lingering in the air. Everything is in its place but then your gaze lands on his bedside table. 

More specifically, on one of the drawers. 

The one that’s locked.

Curiosity tugs at you, a feeling that’s been there for a while now. You’ve always wondered about that drawer. Michael never mentioned it, and you never asked out of respect for his privacy. You figured it was something personal, something he didn’t want you to see.

But right now, with the house so quiet and your boredom clawing at you, that drawer seems to call out to you louder than ever.

You sit up in bed, biting your lip as your gaze lingers on it. What could be in there? Something secretive? There’s something about the way he’s kept it locked that has you more intrigued than ever. What could be so private that it’s kept behind a key?

You glance toward the door, making sure you’re still alone. Michael won’t be back for hours, he said today would be a long day at the studio. It’s the perfect opportunity to satisfy your curiosity. A little peek won’t hurt, right?

Heart racing, you slide out of bed as you approach the nightstand. Your fingers hover over the drawer, feeling a little tingle of excitement and guilt all at once. 

Where could the key be?

You start searching. You check inside the nightstand’s upper drawer, rifling through the neatly arranged items, but there’s no key there. You crouch down and look underneath the table, and that’s when you spot it, a small, metal key taped to the underside of the nightstand, hidden just out of sight. A sly smile spreads across your face as you peel it off.

Your heart beats a little faster as you sit back on the bed, the key cool in your palm. For a moment, you hesitate, chewing on your lower lip as a wave of guilt washes over you. You shouldn’t be doing this—it’s his private space, after all. But then again, what harm could a little peek really do. 

Taking a deep breath, you slide the key into the lock and twist.

The drawer opens with a soft click, and for a moment, all you see are a few VHS tapes stacked neatly inside. At first glance, it looks innocent enough, maybe some old home movies or forgotten recordings. But as you take a closer look, your eyes narrow, the momentary disappointment turning into your cheeks heating up.

These aren’t just any VHS tapes.

Your heart skips a beat as you realize what you’ve stumbled upon. The titles scrawled on the side of each tape in Michael’s handwriting aren’t the names of movies or shows. They’re far from innocent.

Your eyes widen as you pick up one of the tapes, your fingers trembling slightly. The label reads Doggy/Anal/Squirting in bold, messy letters. Your face burns as you quickly put it back down, glancing at the other tapes. Each one has similar titles, all in his handwriting, and each one more explicit than the last.

“Oh my god,” you whisper, a mix of shock and disbelief washing over you. 

This is his porn stash.

You can’t help but laugh nervously to yourself, your cheeks still burning as you sit back, staring at the drawer filled with explicit tapes. You never would’ve guessed. Michael always seemed so in control. To think he had a secret like this tucked away in your bedroom, just a few feet away from where you slept every night... It's a little mind-blowing.

Your fingers hover over the tapes again, curiosity piqued. He wrote the titles himself, meaning he put these together for his own, private collection. There’s something oddly intimate about that, something that sends a little thrill through you as you pick up another tape, reading the words Public/Threesome/Creampie written in the same familiar handwriting.

Your mouth goes dry as you imagine him watching these when he’s on tour, far away from you. You feel a knot tighten in your stomach, a mix of embarrassment and desire.

You shouldn’t be doing this. You know that. 

But now that you’ve seen it, you can’t stop yourself.

Your fingers trace the label of another tape, and your heart races at the thought of popping it into the VHS player, of seeing exactly what he’s been watching in secret. The idea sends a flush of heat through your body, your imagination running wild with possibilities. 

But before you go any further, you pause, biting your lip. 

You’ve already invaded his privacy enough by opening the drawer. If he finds out you’ve watched one of these tapes... you’re not sure how he’d react. And part of you doesn’t want to break that unspoken trust between you.

Still, you can’t deny the way your body reacts to the thought of it. The thought that Michael, your seemingly perfect, polished husband, has this secret stash of pornographic tapes stashed away, it changes something in your mind.

The drawer is already open. The key already used. What’s a little more?

Your pulse races as you move to the TV, sliding the VHS into the player. The soft click of the tape being swallowed by the machine feels heavier than it should, like you’re on the edge of something big, something that will change things between you and Michael forever. But at this moment, you don’t care.

As the screen flickers to life, you lay down on the bed, your heart pounding in your chest. You feel your thighs press together, squeezing tightly as the seconds tick by, your body growing hotter with each moment. The slickness in your panties has you feeling needy, aching, and the more you wait for the tape to start, the more your mind drifts to Michael. 

Finally, the screen lights up, and you’re immediately greeted with the sounds of heavy breathing, loud moans, and the rhythmic slap of skin against skin. The woman on screen is bent over, her face twisted in pleasure as a man pounds into her, hard and fast. You can’t help but widen your eyes at the explicitness of it, the way the camera zooms in on her pussy, stretched wide around a cock. It's raw, no-holds-barred.

Your cheeks burn but instead of turning down the volume or stopping the tape, you lean in closer. There’s something intoxicating about the graphic nature of it. You try to keep your breath steady, but it’s impossible. Each loud, wet sound seems to pull you in more, and you can’t stop thinking about Michael watching this.

Has he sat on this very bed, stroking himself while this played? The thought sends a shiver through your body. He’s been away on tour so many times, away from you, and you wonder how often he’s resorted to this. How many times has he pictured you in the same position as these women?

Your hand slips down your stomach and under your underwear, your fingers brushing between your wet folds. You bite your lip, barely suppressing a moan as you feel just how aroused you are. There’s something both thrilling and scandalous about this—watching what Michael watches in secret, knowing this is what he gets off to.

But then something shifts.

As you continue watching, you start to notice something about the women on screen. They aren’t just random actresses, no there’s something familiar about them. The way they move, the way they moan, the way they react to being fucked. It’s not just their bodies, though there’s an undeniable resemblance there as well. It’s more than that. It’s the way they look at the camera, the way they carry themselves. 

They resemble you. 

You almost choke as the realization hits you. Each woman in these tapes... looks like you. From the way they arch their backs to the way they tilt their heads when they moan, it’s as if Michael specifically chose women who could pass as your double. 

He didn’t just stumble upon these videos. He sought them out.

You picture Michael watching these tapes, his hand wrapped around his heavy cock, imagining you. Every time you weren’t there, every time he needed to relieve his tension without you, he turned to this collection—a carefully curated set of videos, all starring women who resembled the one he truly adored and craved. 

You.

A low whimper escapes your lips as your fingers find your throbbing clit, your body acting on instinct now. Your hand moves on its own, your trembling fingers slowly rubbing your glossy nub.

As you try to take care of your sensitive cunt you watch tape after tape after tape…your hunger insatiable. Your fingers move faster, circling your clit as you squeeze your thighs together, barely able to contain the pleasure building inside you. The images on the screen are raw, primal, and you can’t stop picturing yourself in the same position, moaning for Michael as he takes you the way you like it.

You’re lost in the haze of pleasure, your drenched fingers working in quick, desperate strokes against your pulsing clit. The pressure is building, your body tense and trembling as your other hand grips the sheets for stability. 

Your arm is getting tired from the frantic rhythm, your hand trembling as it works your glistening heat, but you can’t stop. Not now, not when you’re so close, the familiar warmth coiling in your belly, ready to snap. The pornographic scene on the TV doesn’t help either, the loud, graphic moans and the wet slaps of flesh against flesh have you imagining him in place of the actor on screen. You see Michael’s face instead, hear his voice, his deep groans as he takes you hard, filling you to the brim with his thick cock, stretching you in ways that make your toes curl.

Your breath is uneven, your thighs shaking from the tension as you lose yourself in the fantasy. You don’t even hear the footsteps approaching the bedroom, so consumed by your need that nothing else registers. 

Michael’s back from the studio. As he steps closer to the bedroom, he hears the unmistakable sounds of moans, the erotic noises seeping into the hallway. A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as he listens. The noises are louder than he’s used to hearing but he simply assumes you’re feeling extra needy, and not that porno playing on the tv is causing this commotion. 

His cock twitches in his trousers but when he pushes the door open, what greets him is something far more tantalizing. His eyebrows raise, a mixture of surprise and lust washing over him as he takes in the sight before him. You’re on his side of the bed, your legs spread wide, your hand buried deep in your panties, desperately working yourself toward an orgasm while his porn tapes play on the TV. The explicit scene fills the room, the sounds of sex mingling with your own gasps and moans.

Michael leans against the doorframe, watching for a moment, his mouth slightly parted as his gaze trails over your flushed skin and the way your body moves with each thrust of your hand. His cock is painfully hard, his tip leaking at the sight of you completely unaware that he’s standing there. He could watch you like this all day.

“My, my,” he finally says with a teasing smirk, his voice deep and thick with amusement, “look at my baby.”

The sound of his voice snaps you out of your daze, and you jerk your head toward the door, eyes wide in shock. Panic floods through you as you yank your hand out of your panties, your soaked fingers trembling as you fumble to grab the remote. You scramble, trying to turn off the TV, but in your haze of embarrassment and the frustration of your unreached orgasm, your hands can’t seem to function properly.

Frustrated, you lower the volume instead of turning off the video, and the scene on the screen continues to play in the background, the wet, obscene sounds still audible, though quieter now.

Michael stands there, watching you with clear amusement, his eyes dark and heavy with lust. You can feel his gaze burning into you, making your skin tingle as you sit there, frozen and unsure of what to do. The embarrassment claws at your chest, and you can’t even bring yourself to look at him.

“I- I was just…” you stammer, but the words die on your lips as you glance down at your fingers covered in your juices, your face burning with humiliation.

Michael pushes off from the door and walks over to the bed, his movements slow and deliberate, his eyes never leaving yours. He sits on the edge of the bed in front of you, his intoxicating scent filling your senses.

His gaze flickers to the open drawer, then to the tapes scattered on the floor. A chuckle rumbles from his chest, and he raises an eyebrow. “Got a little curious, I presume?” he asks, his voice teasing.

You nod, still unable to meet his eyes, your fingers clutching the remote like it’s a lifeline. “I’m sorry…” you whisper, your voice so soft it’s barely audible, your cheeks burning even hotter. 

“What was that?” Michael leans in closer, pretending he didn’t hear you. “You’re gonna have to speak up, sweet girl.”

“I’m sorry,” you say again, your voice trembling with embarrassment, barely louder than before. You can feel the weight of his stare, making you feel small under his gaze.

He smirks, tilting his head as if considering your apology. “Sorry for what, exactly?” he asks.

“For going through my stuff? Or for getting caught?” His voice lowers. “Because I think you’re only sorry you didn’t hide the evidence in time.”

You open your mouth to respond, but the words stick in your throat. He’s right, you’re not just sorry for snooping. You’re sorry he walked in on you like this, caught red-handed, mid-orgasm, watching his secret stash of porn. 

“I-” you begin, but Michael raises a hand, stopping you.

“No need to explain,” he says, his voice teasing as his fingers trail along your thigh, sending shivers up your spine. “I think I already know the answer.” His fingers reach your hand, still clutching the remote, and he gently pulls it away, tossing it aside. The TV is still on, though the volume is low enough now that it’s just background noise, the moans and grunts mingling with the heavy silence between you two.

You bite your lip, feeling the tension coil tighter in your stomach as Michael leans closer, his face inches from yours, his breath warm against your skin. His eyes flick down to your lips, then back up to your eyes, a slow smile tugging at his mouth.

You feel a surge of boldness coursing through you, your heart beating fast as you turn your head slightly, still flushed and embarrassed but unable to resist the curiosity building inside you. 

"They look like me." Your voice is soft, but it’s enough to make Michael pause for a second, raising an eyebrow at your admission.

He glances back at the TV. His smirk deepens when he understands what you mean. "Who? The ladies?" he asks, his tone teasing, knowing the answer before you even nod. 

You blush even deeper, your face heating up at the truth laid bare between the two of you. It’s not just a coincidence; Michael clearly has a type, and it’s you. 

He chuckles softly, leaning closer until his lips brush against your ear. "My clever girl," he murmurs, and your heart flutters at the way he says it, his voice thick with pride and amusement.

You don’t know how to respond, your mind racing as his hand slides up your thigh. His presence is overwhelming, and you’re all too aware of the slickness between your legs, the wetness that’s soaked through your panties. Michael notices too, of course. He always does.

He grips your chin, tilting your head so you have no choice but to look at him. His touch is firm but not rough, commanding without being harsh. "Eyes on me," he orders, his voice low and authoritative. You obey, your gaze meeting his dark, intense eyes. 

“Were you enjoying yourself?” he asks, his voice low. 

You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest. “Yes…” you whisper, your voice barely above a breath.

“Yeah?” His smile widens.

“You were doing such a good job, too,” he coos, his voice low and dangerous, filled with heat. “Getting yourself all worked up like that. I almost didn’t want to interrupt.”

Your breath hitches as teasing. “M-Michael…” you whisper, your voice trembling with need.

“But now that I’m here…” He murmurs, “I guess it’s my turn to finish what you started.”

"Spread your legs," he commands softly, his tone leaving no room for hesitation.

You part your legs slowly, your movements shy and unsure. The cool air of the room brushes against your heated skin as Michael’s gaze drops between your soft thighs, and his eyes darken with lust when he sees just how soaked your panties are. You’re practically dripping, the fabric clinging to your swollen folds, slick and wet with arousal.

He coos softly, his voice filled with a teasing sort of affection. "My poor baby.”

Your breath catches in your throat as he casually tugs your panties to the side, exposing your drooling cunt to him. His fingers slide between your slick folds, finding your pulsing clit with practiced ease. He begins to circle it gently, his touch light but purposeful. Your head falls back onto the pillow as you buck your hips a little.

As his fingers toy with your sensitive flesh, Michael glances at the TV again, the sound of the porn still filling the room. "Did something catch your eye?" he asks, his voice laced with amusement, as if he already knows the answer.

You swallow hard, your thighs trembling as he continues to tease you, but you manage to nod toward the screen. You don’t need to speak; he follows your gaze and sees the woman on top of the man, riding him, bouncing on his cock with wild abandon. The woman clearly takes control, and it makes your pulse quicken with excitement.

Michael’s lips curl into a knowing smirk as he turns his attention back to you. "Is that what you want?" he asks, his tone teasing but with a hint of challenge in his voice. 

You nod, unable to find the words to express just how much you want it. It’s something you’ve fantasized about—being on top, feeling him beneath you as you move, your bodies in sync. But Michael never lets you. He’s always been the one in control, always the one calling the shots in bed. The idea of you straining to pleasure him is a foreign concept to him. You’ve never dared to voice your yearning. Until now.

He grins softly, shaking his head in amusement. "Not happening," he says, his tone firm but playful, as if he finds your request cute but entirely out of the question.

Your face falls, you pout at his response. But before you can protest, Michael’s hand moves faster, his fingers toying with your pearl in quick, sharp motions that make your whole body jolt with pleasure. A soft, needy whimper escapes your lips, and you instinctively arch your back, pushing your hips toward his hand.

"Don’t be greedy," he warns, his voice low and commanding. He pauses just long enough to give you a soft, teasing slap right on your pussy, the sting causing you to gasp. "Or you’ll get nothing."

The sound of his dominance, the way he takes control of the situation so effortlessly, makes your breath hitch. You can’t help but nod sheepishly, your body already trembling from the tension building inside you. 

Michael’s smile widens, clearly pleased with your submission. "Good girl," he murmurs, his voice dripping with approval. "Now, let’s get these off, yeah?"

Without another word, he helps you out of your clothes, his fingers brushing against your heated skin as he strips you down to nothing. He moves you into position, pressing your chest down against the mattress, your face smushed into the soft sheets. Your ass is raised in the air, the perfect angle for him to take you however he pleases. your pussy leaks with anticipation.

Michael undresses himself behind you, the sound of his belt hitting the floor making your heart race. You can hear him stroking his cock, the slick sound of lube as he preps himself.

Michael presses the bulbous head of his cock against your weeping hole. You breathe heavily as you feel his warmth. He teases you, prodding his tip into your soaked folds before slipping it out, leaving you clenching around nothing, your needy pussy instinctively trying to keep him inside.

A soft whimper escapes your lips, your body craving him. Your walls throb with want, slick and hot, desperate for the fullness only he can give you. Slowly he pushes in again, this time sinking deeper into your tight heat. Your breath hitches at the intensity of the stretch, your pussy molding around his thick shaft as inch after inch disappears inside you.

Your eyes flutter, half-lidded in pleasure, and your mouth falls open in a silent moan as he fills you completely. The feeling of his delicious girth inside you is overwhelming, your gummy walls gripping him like a vice. He pauses, letting you adjust to the fullness, his hands firm on your hips as he stays buried deep within you.

"Oh god," you breathe, the word barely more than a whisper as your body trembles beneath him.

But Michael isn’t in any rush. His hips pull back, and you can feel every inch of him as he withdraws, the slow drag of his lengthy cock making your body shudder. The moment he nearly slips out, he thrusts back in again, a little faster this time, driving his meaty shaft into you with a satisfying stretch. Your pussy squeezes around him, trying to suck him deeper.

Your gaze remains fixed on the TV screen, watching the woman riding her partner, her body moving with a freedom and control you crave. You want to ride him so bad. The thought sends a jolt of desire through your core, your pussy fluttering around him as you imagine it.

Of course Michael notices. He always does.

He shakes his head, his amusement evident in his voice as he keeps plunging deeper into you, "Stop daydreaming about it," he says, his tone dripping with authority. "You can barely take my cock as it is."

Your brows furrow in frustration. You try to say something smart to defend yourself, but before you can, he cuts you off with a sharp slam that knocks the breath from your lungs.

"Wasn't a question," he growls, his grip on your hips tightening as he pounds into you with more force. "You should be grateful you’re not being punished right now."

A helpless cry tumbles from your lips as his pace quickens, each powerful stroke filling you to the brim. Your sensitive pussy can barely handle the relentless pleasure, your slick walls gripping his cock as he drives into you, hitting spots that make your entire body tremble. Every vein, every ridge of his huge shaft presses against your walls.

Your legs shake beneath you, your muscles trembling with the effort to stay in position. If Michael wasn’t holding your hips so firmly, you’d have collapsed by now. His grip keeps you in place, keeps you grounded as he pistols his hips against you with a brutal intensity that leaves you breathless.

Whines spill from your lips, needy and high-pitched as your body struggles to keep up with the overwhelming sensation. His heavy balls slap deliciously against your swollen clit with each deep pump. Your eyes roll back in your head, your vision blurring as you feel yourself nearing the edge.

The sheets are damp beneath your face, muffling the sound of your ragged breathing as Michael's relentless teasing continues. His deep voice drips with amusement, mocking you for going through his things, and you can barely focus on his words as the overwhelming sensations in your body mount.

"You just couldn't help yourself, could you?" he says, his tone laced with playful cruelty. "Had to go snooping."

His words stir a heady mix of shame and arousal. Your thighs tremble as he continues to pound into you, his cock sliding in and out of your glistening, swollen pussy with ease. The wet, obscene sounds of his cock plunging into your dripping core fill the room, mingling with the pornographic noises still playing on the TV.

"Look at this mess you're making," he groans, his grip tightening on your hips as he pulls you back onto his cock covered in your shared slickness. "All because you went through my stuff. Naughty girl."

Your vision blurs, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as you feel the pressure building inside you. It’s too much—his fast, relentless pounding, the slickness of your juices making everything slippery, the way his cock stretches you perfectly. It all blurs together, overwhelming you.

You try to speak, to warn him that you’re about to lose control, but the words die in your throat, your mouth opening in a silent gasp. And then it hits you, hard.

Your body tenses, muscles locking up as a powerful wave of pleasure crashes over you. Before you can stop it, a rush of liquid spurts from your pussy, soaking the sheets and spraying onto his thighs. A loud, guttural cry escapes your lips as your face is pressed deeper into the mattress, your entire body shaking uncontrollably as you squirt. It’s messy, uncontrollable, and you can’t stop it as your pussy sprays out more of your juices, drenching everything in your wetness.

"Fuck, go on sweet girl, mark your territory," Michael groans, his voice thick with arousal as he feels the warm liquid dribble down his skin. He doesn’t stop, if anything, the feeling of your wetness covering him only spurs him on, making him thrust harder, faster. His cock slides in even easier now, the extra slickness allowing him to plunge into you effortlessly

Your body jerks with each powerful thrust, your legs shaking beneath you as your sensitive pussy clenches around him. The overstimulation is almost too much to bear, the pleasure bordering on pain as he prolongs your squirting, making it last longer than you thought possible. Your whole body is quaking, your muscles spasming as another wave of pleasure washes over you, your pussy clenching hard around his cock as you cum again.

The bed is completely soaked beneath you, the sheets drenched with your juices as your orgasm wracks through you. You’re trembling uncontrollably, every nerve in your body on fire as Michael continues to pound into you. His balls slap against your swollen clit with each thrust, the sensation pushing you further into a haze of overstimulated bliss.

"You look so beautiful when you make a mess for me," his voice thick with desire. His movements become more erratic, his breathing ragged as he chases his own release. You can feel how close he is, the way his cock twitches inside you, his balls tightening as they slap against you.

His voice lowers, rough and filled with need. "You want me to fill you up, don’t you?"

You can barely find the breath to respond, your body trembling with exhaustion and overstimulation. But you nod, gasping out a breathless, desperate "yes." Your pussy still pulses around him, aching to be filled with his thick, hot cum.

Michael lets out a breathy chuckle, the sound dripping with mockery. "Mm, I don’t know about that," he says, his tone teasing as he slows his thrusts to a torturous grind. "How are you supposed to learn your lesson if I give you exactly what you want?"

Your breath hitches in frustration, your pussy clenching around him in a futile attempt to keep him inside as he suddenly pulls out. You whine, your body instinctively arching toward him, desperate for more. But he’s already stroking his cock, the slickness of your juices making it glisten as he groans at the sight of your puffy gaping pussy.

"My pretty girl," he murmurs, his eyes fixed on the way your pussy is still spread open, glossy with your arousal and his precum. He strokes his stiff cock with long, slow motions, his gaze trailing over your trembling body.

You feel the cool air hit your exposed skin as his heavy length hovers above you, and you know what’s coming next. His heavy balls are tight with need, full of his potent seed, and you can hear his panting as he brings himself closer to the edge. But instead of giving you what you crave, instead of filling you up the way you always crave, he teases you further.

With a low groan, he pumps his cock a few more times before he cums, thick ropes of his creamy seed spurting from his tip. His creamy load splashes onto your pussy, covering your folds in his sticky, milky release. You gasp at the sensation, your body still sensitive from your own orgasm, and you feel the warm liquid drip down your inner thighs.

But none of it goes where you want it most.

Not a single drop enters your aching, empty hole. He’s careful to avoid your entrance, his cum pooling around your swollen folds but never filling you. You can feel the heat of it, the way it marks you, but it’s not enough, not nearly enough. Your pussy clenches instinctively, craving the fullness of him, but he denies you.

One drop of his cum starts to seep toward your stretched hole, and for a moment, you think you’ll finally get what you want. But Michael’s hand is quick, swiping it away before it can slip inside. You let out a disappointed sigh and nuzzle your cheek into the soft sheets. 

You feel utterly spent, your body still trembling from the intensity of it all. His cum dribbles down your inner thighs, marking you, claiming you in a way that makes your heart race. But at the same time, there’s a lingering sadness, a frustration at the thought of all that creamy seed going to waste when you could have been filled with it.

Michael leans down, pressing a soft kiss to the small of your back as his hands gently rub over your warm body. He’s back to being tender now, his teasing nature momentarily softened as he takes care of you. 

Once he’s cleaned you up, he moves to put the tapes back in the drawer, his actions slow and deliberate as he organizes them neatly. But this time, he doesn’t lock it.

You glance up at him, your eyes still half-lidded with exhaustion, and he catches your gaze with a knowing smile. He says nothing, but the unlocked drawer speaks for itself. You know he’s giving you permission—whether it’s to test your boundaries again or to explore your curiosity more freely, you’re not sure. But either way, it feels like a small victory, a silent acknowledgment of the power you hold over him, even when he’s the one in control.

© michaelsfavgirl 2024

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[michaeljacksonarchive]

[mariolanzas]

¨ANTEDILUVIAN¨ gifs

Antediluvian is a short animated film in commemorative homage to Classic Paleoart and the earliest Paleontologists. Exactly 200 years ago was the first dinosaur formally described.

Full short film now available at Youtube/MarioLanzas.

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Prints and more paleomerch

[alexandriad]

jumping on the bandwagon with an ancient greek miku

[my-darling-boy]

I was at a bookstore looking through the art section and I saw a spine that said The Camden Town Nudes which was interesting because this didn’t seem like the bookstore where I would ever find something like that and I wanted to have a casual look but like. This also wasn’t exactly the bookstore where you felt like you could look at naked pictures let alone just suggestive paintings of them, it’s a really small shop as well, so I was like right I’ll just take a quick peek, I’m an art student, I love history, maybe I’ll buy it. I looked both ways and saw the shopkeep had left momentarily and no one was about, so I opened it and found it was an entire book featuring nude Edwardian women all painted by Walter Sickert between 1905-1912 and it was actually quite a revolutionary set of paintings for its time given that it featured very raw depictions of working class nude women in dark London instead of the elegant, white bedsheet clad, Demure middle and upper class women usually depicted.

And of course RIGHT as I flip to this lady’s boobs practically taking up an entire double page spread, every customer in a 5 mile radius appeared from around the corners of the shelf including the shopkeep and immediately regressing to a wet, pathetic Edwardian man from 1908, startled, I dropped the large book which caused a giant SLAP on the floor in this already silent store thus causing all patrons to look down at me scrambling on my knees to close a giant book of Edwardian boobs and let me tell you it would not have been nearly as funny had I not immediately felt like some Edwardian local pervert who just tried to sneak a cheeky peek at the erotic book in the bookstore only to drop it dramatically causing a scene, red up to his ears trying to shove it back on the shelf. Like such a casual and normal thing in modern day but looking at Edwardian women suddenly turned it into this egregious act as I apparently became possessed by the spirit of a moustached man in a bowler hat and morning coat going Good Heavens I mustn’t gaze upon these images in public lest the constable haul me away!