From the moment they meet at Studio 54, Michael Jackson and Jacqueline Carter have a chemistry that can't be denied. An ambitious musician falls in love with a city girl who helps him keep his sanity in an insane world. Night after night on the danc...
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Warning: Grown folks business and sexual content ahead. Proceed accordingly.
Seconds turned to minutes and the minutes felt like hours as Michael and Jacqueline lost themselves in their secluded paradise, making up for lost time in the master bedroom. As always, they brushed aside the issues in their affair and sought solace by immersing themselves in sex, instead delving deeper into the physical intricacies of their relationship. There were so many sights to see beyond the frame of their mattress, so many conversations to have that extended beyond the limits of their body language, and truths yet to be revealed that were often hidden behind their lust.
Be that as it may, they shed away the parts of themselves they usually kept hidden once they climbed into the plush king bed. The unfamiliar surroundings ignited a newfound desire to experiment, infusing their lovemaking with an electrifying sense of purpose. As Michael relaxed against the pile of fluffy Egyptian cotton pillows, he watched Jacqueline straddle him and move with an enticing rhythm. He couldn't help but wonder if they had swapped professions as she rode him to a secret but steady rhythm, singing her pleasure to him in a soulful chant. He wondered as he grasped her waist in one hand and her hip in the other if this was how she felt in hair school, handling the smoking hot irons. From where he lay, it seemed easier for him to understand her perspective while being inside her; he wondered if she felt the same.
Jacqueline's mind focused solely on the sensations coursing through her body as she arched her head back, relishing the sense of control she had at that moment. It had been her suggestion to try a new position, and Michael, always a gentleman, had hesitated at first. But he quickly gave in, knowing that this weekend was all about anything she wanted and everything she needed. His willingness paid off as she experimented with the new position, clinging onto him and gradually building up from a gentle movement to a more comfortable bouncing motion.
Michael had his chance to practice new things too, and felt the fruits of his labor in the slippery ride. When they first entered the room, he took the lead, driven by a desperate need to temper the yearning that had accumulated during their time apart. She was hardly out of her skirt before he had her spread on her back, playing between her legs, first with his hands. Her love was already coming down when he got there, and quickly his searching fingers were swimming in her essence and his urge to taste her became inevitable. He would never in all his days forget the way their eyes locked as his lips closed around her, and watching her inhale sharply and roll her brown irises back as he kissed her sex gently. The instant he slid his tongue across her valley and tasted her intoxicating and pure nectar, he knew he could spend eternities tasting her if she would have him.
After winding her up near her peak, there Michael was, helpless and awestruck, watching her wind on him, now at a mercilessly quick pace, putting more height into each rise and fall on his hardness.
Michael's voice trembled with pleasure as he held onto her, captivated by the rhythm of her movements. "That's perfect, baby," he murmured. "You're perfect."
