Bad Attraction | Chris Motionless x Michael Jackson

CHAPTER 9

Another moan was pulled out of Michael's lips as Chris pushed forward once more, filling the space inside of him that had started to feel empty, even though Chris' rhythm was quick, quicker than he had accustomed Michael to, from the very beginning.

The movement allowed for the head of his cock to brush against the soft blankets under him, sending a shiver across his body and another moan, softer, sweeter, past his lips. His hands scrambled underneath him, struggling to both support his weight and bunch the material in his fists, clinging and clenching at it, anchoring it to the present and not letting his mind be swept away by pleasure.

Another thrust, another moan, heat coiling tighter in Michael's stomach.

"Like that, babe?" Chris rasped, giving another thrust, more powerful this time, that sent him forward. "Of course you do. You love it." He did. He did, Michael did. Once everything would be over, he knew he would deny it, or shrug it off, be quick to discard it aside, this and all the feelings those words were awakening in him, but for now none of that mattered.

None of what wasn't Chris' hands, one on his hip, keeping Michael's body from leaving too far every time, and the other on his thigh, just because, both burning his skin as hot as a brand.

Or the sound of his loud breathing, echoing Michael's pounding heart.

Or the way a grunt or a moan would escape him when Michael would clench down on his cock slamming back inside of him, always seemingly despite his best will, if Michael judged by the vindictive thrust that never failed to follow suite. The one that cut off his breath and had him almost see stars every single time it happened. None of those which were a good idea to convince him to stop.

Or Chris' scent, that Michael could smell better there, his face almost half pressed against the same mattress Chris slept in. This, with the added feeling of soft, plush surface his knees sank in and that grazed his cock once in a while, was making Michael dizzy.

He was sure he could even taste him, still, even thought it had been a couple of days since he didn't have his cock inside his mouth.

His cock. The same cock being pushed inside him, sending a shock, same shock Michael still struggled to expect and assume, same shock remaining a surprise, a relief when Michael felt it, again and again and again. A hotness that breached him, and which Michael could sense up to his stomach.

"Touch yourself." He said, then. "I want you to come now."

His moan turned high-pitched, and not because of another powerful shove. Chris didn't miss it, and slowed down his thrusts until all Michael could do was clench on the head of his cock, that he had mercifully, contrary to that demand he just made, left inside him, making Michael's nose scrunch more and his lips turn into a pout.

Were his brain not being rammed into mush, Michael would have spared a thought to be glad Chris couldn't see that.

"Now what's that I hear?"

Michael's face warmed up and he squirmed, half wanting to bury himself deeper into the mattress and press back against that not-even-half-inside gorgeous dick.

He wasn't complaining, but he couldn't help either the pang of disappointment he felt within his chest. He wanted to come, of course he did, it was just that... that...

Well, sometimes Chris would be the one who'd touch him to climax. And it was awful, don't get Michael wrong, pure torture, and Chris would relish in it, in his whines and his squirming as he would barely touch at first, and so lightly it was laughable -- or would be, for anyone not in Michael's shoes. Teasing and edging but never properly giving.