Cheater

We'll meet again..

Michael and Bernadine's feet pounded the hotel stairs, as they flicked their hoods off of their heads, and laughed, running all the way back to their suite.
They had gone to a grocery store in hoodies, and stolen snicker bars. It was stupid and so wrong, but so thrilling and fun!

"You're the worst! The worst!" Michael whined as he handed the loot to his wife guiltily, still shaking from the feeling.
"Aw, baby, we won't get arrested. The store had no cctv.." Bernadine giggled as Michael's cheeks were flushed out.
"Yeah? Next time, don't be so obvious!" Michael hissed, remembering how the man had swore in another language at them, waving a broom and chasing them down the road as they ran into the dark, laughing like careless teens.

Michael's heart lay with this woman. This troubled, crazy, hood woman. The mother of his child. He breathed for her.
"Is this all you got? Clearly you don't follow instructions.." Bernadine smirked, as Michael pushed her into the room, kissing on her as she walked backwards.

"Sorry I'm not a thug or something, B! You know? Give me a break, I got a snicker bar!" He giggled, as she stuffed it into his pocket, letting him walk her to the bed as he kicked the door shut.
"A thug? I'm a thug, Mr Jackson?" Bernadine asked with a smirk as his lips pushed on hers.
"You are, Bernie. You know it. You know what they say about girls like you.." He chuckled.

"What they say? Show me where they at!" Bernadine giggled.
"They say, you can take the girl out of the hood,"
"But you can't take the hood out of the girl!" Bernadine finished proudly as Michael rolled his eyes.
"Exactly, B! You're used to stealing. I'm used to studios, and 45 tracks.."
"Aw, that's sweet. But I gave you a lesson and everything.." She giggled as they fell on the bed, "I taught you way back in '88, how to hustle. Didn't I Jackson?"
"Bernie, I'm the hustle master. Come on now, girl. Don't let them fool you. I'm still a Mac.." Michael grinned as Bernadine giggled and kissed him harder.

"That you are! Of my heart!" She giggled as he rolled his eyes and kissed on her damp neck, still a little wet from the sweat of anticipation.
"Mm, right? And you of mine.." He mumbled against her skin, as she held his face and laughed softly, too soft. She was drowning in  his touch.

"Michael-" she pushed at his face in her neck, as he groaned, "I need to pee.." She whispered as he laughed.
"You know what? Me too. After getting chased out of a store, I think I nearly shat myself. Thanks Bernie.." Michael giggled, as she stood, and pulled him to the toilet.

"Oh, great. Let's watch each other pee.." He mumbled sarcastically as Bernadine placed a finger to his lips.
"Don't say a word, playboy. Just come on.." She laughed leading him to the bathroom.
"Playboy?" He whispered with a giggle as she shh'd him.

Bernadine pulled down her trousers, to expose her freshly bald kitty, especially waxed for her visit. Michael stared as she flopped on the loo, and peed freely. Bernadine used to think it was weird how Michael would watch her on the loo, but now she realised that it kind of turned him on.

Michael rubbed down his front, as his eyes tried to see between her thighs, and exactly how the pee was coming out. The mystery made his trousers tight, as he clutched himself.
"You're always horny," Bernadine frowned as Michael nodded shyly.
"That I am, Bernie. You are my wife after all.." He smirked at her as she grinned, and wiped herself, standing to wash her hands, as Michael drifted over to the toilet to pee too.

"How long were you holding that?" Bernadine laughed, listening to the never ending fountain that seemed to be her husbands pee. He shrugged.
"Since you said, 'grab something and run'.." Michael patronised as she snickered.
"Did we get caught?" Bernadine cupped her ear as Michael stayed silent and smirked, "I didn't think so. So shut that shit up, Michael.."

"I will not, 'shut that shit up', B! It was so close this time! So close! He nearly ripped your hood off.."
"You would of torn the fuck off he did. I wouldn't see ya ass for dust.." Bernadine sucked her teeth as Michael began to laugh some more, doing up his pants, and flushing the loo.
"You're right. That would've been your mess.." He giggled.

"Some husband.." Bernie giggled  as Michael wrapped his arms around her to wash his hands.
"Some wife.." He cocked a brow, kissing her softly as she giggled, rubbing her lips against his.

A heavy knocking, made them both snap out of their moment, as Michael pulled away reluctantly.
"Who the fuck is that?" He cursed under his breath, shaking his hands dry, "Stay there Bernie. I'll be back.." He winked, darting over to answer the door in the next room.

"Hi," Shana breathed as Michael's face iced up. Shana looked down, and Michael noticed, but he wanted to return to his wife.
"Hi Shana.." Michael sighed, trying to make sure that the impression he gave was not one of secrecy.
"I just realised that my bag is here, and I need it. I need it, Michael.." Shana panted. She'd been running.
"Your bag? How? Oh.." Michael's dick twitched as he remembered the blow job Shana had given him a few nights prior. He smirked at her, and she did not return his expression.

Clearing his throat, Michael sighed.
"I'm kinda busy. I can't just give you the bag.." Michael whispered, glancing behind the door to check his wife wasn't in listening distance.
"I need. The bag." Shana growled as Michael stepped back and frowned at her tone.
"Why? Why do you need it so bad?" He spat angrily, "She'll know! Why would your bag be here? You want her to find out?" Michael hissed as Shana sighed deeply, and combed her fingers through her hair.

"Of course I don't, Michael. I just want my bag. It has important medication.."
"I'll bring it up to you tonight, after the show. Alright? Ok? Shana!" Michael hissed at the suddenly juvenile acting woman in front of him.
"You want a scene? I can make one! Give me the bag! Michael, when do I ask for shit?"
"Never, but Shana this is out of bounds. Don't fuck with my wife!" He glared at her, as she stepped back, hands on hips, and giving him a 'don't try it' look.
"That's the last thing I want to do, you know that. Just give me the bag, I need the medication!"
"What's this medication for?"
"Plan B!" Shana hissed finally as Michael's heart stopped beating. You could watch his eyes lose their spark, and his lip began to quiver.

"Plan B?" He whispered nervously.
"Yes. Morning after?" She growled.
"Why would you need that? We're always protected?" Michael mumbled.
"Yeah, I fucked one of the band today. Don't ask me how, Michael.." Shana laughed, as Michael stared at her angrily.
"You've been fucking other men?" He hissed. Suddenly, a territorial jealousy blanched over him, and he hated it.
"Yes. Well, only him. He's not married, and he doesn't have children. Funny huh? He actually has time to be a man.." Shana glared as Michael sighed heavily.

"I'll bring it up in an hour. Not now, Shana. Just go.." Michael slammed the door, and leaned against it, closing his eyes.
Michael knew he had a double standard, and he could not fuck his wife and Shana and then expect Shana to only fuck him.. But he did want a pussy that was just his.. Some would argue that was his wife's duty.. But Michael was exploring his new found greed, and he was ashamed to admit he liked it.