Who Would've Guessed?(A Michael Jackson FanFic)

Chapter 2

While I waited for Michael to arrive, I straightened up the house, and myself as well. After I finished, I went to my laptop to listen to some music, but first I went on a site with all kinds of pictures of Michael, some real, some photo shopped. As I'm looking through my browser, I come across a fan fiction site with stories and pictures, all of Michael. I come across a story so explicit, it had perfectly photo shopped pictures and everything. As I started reading it, I fell so deep into it, so turned on by the words with the pictures. I found myself getting hot, and I subconsciously started touching myself. I've never looked at Michael this way, oh my god. Now I'm wet from the stimulating effect this story has. I've never had such thoughts of Michael, and now I do. Oh, how I wanted him to touch me. I can't shake this feeling of how strong these words are. I'm so hot for him right now..

It's been an hour and a half since I talked with Michael on the phone. I cannot stop reading this story, though. I'm so into it. Reading on and on and how it explains how and where and... Oh my god! In that position? I have NEVER read anything like this about Michael! So detailed, and it's well endowed sexual character.

Dear god. I can't take my eyes off of this. I can't control the urge to touch myself. This feels so good. "Mmm..Ooh.. Yes Michael. I want you." I hear myself begin to moan. I keep reading as I'm fondling myself and I can imagine being with Michael just like in the story. Erotic thoughts fill my head and begin to take over my body I'm giving into the eroticu and I imagine Michael stroking me from behind while rubbing my clit. Moaning in ecstasy, I start playing with my nipples and Michael fucks me faster in my mind. Rubbing my clit intensely, I'm about to..

                 DING DONG!

Fuck! Was that a doorbell? Shit! What time is it? Oh no, it's Michael. I lost track of time, my hair isn't even dry from my shower! Oh he can't see me like this! Crap! The website! I rush and slam the laptop screen shut before finding some clothes to put on, putting my damp hair up, and rushing downstairs to let Michael in.

As I get near the door, I can still feel my heart racing from the effects of the story. So I paused, checked my hair, took a deep breath, exhaled, and proceeded to open the door. There was Michael, with flowers and that beautiful smile.

"Hi Michael!" I shrieked.

"Hello my sweet Melody. I brought you some flowers to cheer you up." He handed them to me.

"Oh Michael, they're beautiful!"

I gave him a hug and as I held him I could smell his cologne so I breathed in deep, because he smelled amazing. As I'm breathing in his scent, he leans down and whispers in my ear, "Your hair smells nice."

We looked at each other and laughed like school girls.

"Come in, Michael."

As Michael walked inside, we adjourned to the living room. On the table by the couch was a vase I put the flowers Michael gave me in. As we got comfortable, he pulled me in for another hug, and as we embraced, my heart was racing so fast, I thought it might burst out of my chest. With still feeling the effects from the story, Michael's eyes, his smile, and a hug, you'd think I'd kill over.

"Are you alright? Your face looks a bit flushed." Oh wow! Now my face is flushed?

"Yeah Michael. I'm just a bit warm." That was such an understatement.

"Would you like something to drink? I'll get us some iced tea and some water to go with these flowers you gave me." I stood up.

"You want me to help?" He asked me.

"No! I mean, no. You just stay there." I can't believe how stupid I'm acting. I look so crazy. I can feel Michael staring at me, bewildered as I walk into the kitchen, mumbling to myself.

Come on, Melody! Let's make this iced tea, put some water in these flowers, and go back out there, calm, cool, and collected. Yeah. Okay.

I'm trying to regain my thoughts and keep a cool head before going back into the living room.

Okay. I'm good. I'm alright. Just go back out there like nothing's up. I take a deep breath and grab our tea and walk back into the living room.

Michael wasn't there. How long was I in the kitchen?