𝐹𝑟𝑒𝑒 𝑋𝑜𝑛𝑒

𝐼𝐼

We sat behind a sleek partition, sealed off from the driver and her bodyguard in the front. The subtle weight shift in the car signaled the bodyguard settling in, but all I could focus on was Janet beside me. I stole glances at her, intimidated yet entranced. Her presence was magnetic, pulling me in despite my nerves. Her beauty was beyond what I had ever imagined, even more striking up close, her high cheekbones sharp, and her jawline perfectly sculpted. She was the kind of woman you couldn't take your eyes off, and I found myself completely captivated. My breath caught as I stared at her lips, soft and full.

"Are you nervous?" she asked, her voice as soothing as a melody, soft yet commanding in its way.

"A little," I admitted, unable to hide the truth.

She leaned in closer, and I felt the car shift as it began to move. The tension between us grew, the air charged with anticipation. Her face was just inches from mine, our lips so close that I could feel her breath on my skin. I thought we were about to kiss, my heart pounding in my chest like a drum. But then, just as we were almost there, she pulled back slightly, her voice low and teasing.

"If you don't want to do this, we can always bring you back," she said. "I want you to feel comfortable and completely relaxed. We both get something out of this, but that's only if I have your consent."

Her words hung in the air, and I felt the weight of them. It wasn't just about desire; she was giving me a choice, offering me the chance to walk away if I wasn't sure. But I was sure more sure than I'd ever been about anything. My mind raced, but I knew what I wanted.

"You have my full consent," I whispered, barely able to get the words out through the excitement coursing through me.

Her mouth curved into that iconic smile, the one that made her who she was, Janet Jackson, the woman everyone admired, fantasized about. But now, in this moment, she wanted me. Me, of all people. It wasn't that I didn't think I was attractive. I knew I was a good-looking woman, but this was Janet. She was supposed to be straight, at least according to the world. She was the perfect little sister, a pop icon living out her dreams, a public figure who seemed untouchable.

She was also the highest paid artist at the time, more successful than even her legendary brother, Michael Jackson. Everyone saw her as flawless, and she had a boyfriend. It was all part of her image, polished perfect. Yet here we were, and I felt like I was carrying the biggest secret in the world.

The way she looked at me, though her dark brown eyes roaming over my body like I was the most irresistible thing in the world, told me everything I needed to know. She wanted me, and it was undeniable. There was hunger in her gaze, like she was savoring every second, waiting for the moment to devour what was in front of her.

She wasted no time, moving with purpose and certainty. I remember every moment vividly, as though it unfolded in slow motion. Her touch came first gentle yet commanding. One hand slid down my thigh, pulling me closer, while the other found its way to the back of my head, fingers threading through my hair. My heart raced, and I let myself fall into the moment, closing my eyes as her lips met mine.

Finally, the moment I had been waiting for. Her kiss was everything I imagined, smooth as butter, warm and soft. Her lips tasted sweet, like chocolate, with just the slightest hint of something irresistible. I felt myself melting into her, completely wrapped up in the sensation. She kissed with a confidence that sent shivers through me, the kind of kiss that you never wanted to end. Every press of her lips, every movement felt deliberate, sensual, and electrifying.

I couldn't help but crave more, wanting to lose myself in this moment with her, with Janet. Her lips were like an addiction, and I was completely and utterly hooked. Our lips continued to intertwine. "Mmhhm" I moaned. She was so addictive, I couldn't pull away from her if I tried.