Sex Instructor (A Michael Jackson Fan Fiction)

Chapter 7: Watch And Learn

*Angel's POV*

I was awakened by the strong light coming from the big window. My eyes started blinking rapidly to try and adjust to the light. I was still half asleep and felt a little pain in my area. I moved my head to adjust a little but felt skin-...

WHO'S THIS?! WHY IS HE HERE? AM I NAKED? WH-

Oh...it's just the king of sex.

"The king of sex?"

FUCK. I'm fucked. FUCK.

"That's...a new one. Thanks for the title though." I felt Michael's groggy voice vibrating through his chest. His hand was still tangled with my hair just like I fell asleep to it. I looked up discreetly and saw him smirk, a cocky one but with 100% professionalism.

I stayed quiet because what else can I say to that?

Michael gently moved from under me and stood up off the sheets. He walked two steps closer to the window and stared at the sunrise. It was now that I just realized I wasn't the only one naked. My eyes scanned all of his body. ALL of it. From the smooth and strong thighs to the part that was inside me last night.

"My mother always used to say that it's rude to stare." Michael's voice made my eyes switch down. "But I think it's the contrary. I think of it as admiring beauty." He said while putting his boxers back on.

When he turned around I couldn't help but to keep looking at him. That's when I gasped loudly in horror.

"What? What's wrong?" Michael turned around quickly with eyes filled with concern.

"Oh my god. Yo, I'm so sorry I didn't-...." I looked at his confused frown. "Your back." I whispered shamefully.

Michael walked to one of the mirrors on the wall and turned around to look at his back. There were four lines of scratches on each side of his torso. On total that makes eight almost-bloody fresh scratches made by me last night, which honestly I don't even remember doing. I looked at my nails in terror and guilt.

"I am so sorry. I really wasn't in control and-...."

"That was the goal," he said.

"Huh?"

"The goal was for you to feel good and let the moment take control." Michael smirked while looking closely at the scratches.

"But they look so painful. Why are you smirking?"

"Mhmm," Michael kept looking at them, "it does look really deep but I don't think it'll leave a scar."

WHAT? SCARS? Why is he so calm about this?

"What? They 'look' deep? Can't you feel them?"

"I've had many things done to me by women and this isn't one of the worst." Michael kept smiling while scanning the scratches. "I think marks left by a woman on a man are one of the most poetic and erotic things that could be done. But not the other way around."

"Why not the other way around?" I asked as I saw Michael putting on his pants.

"I do think that every once in a while it's not so bad to lose control and leave marks with my lips. But I believe men have no right to claim a woman's body. Your body is yours. You own it, something females have worked on for centuries. It's just my humble belief."

I was left with my mouth open. As if I just got done reading the most feminist book in the history of feminists.

"Close your mouth and cover yourself. You're giving me ideas and you don't wanna know what I'd do to you this early in the morning." Michael looked at me with hungry eyes but never losing trace of his maturity. He finished putting on his shoes but was still shirtless.