March 11th, 1997
Mariah rolled over on the floor and looked at the large wall clock just over the pool table. It was ten in the morning and she had nowhere to be. She looked over by the stairs that led to the bedroom where Michael lay with his eyes wide open. She sat straight up to get a better view. Michael looked over at her. His hair was unkempt and he was wearing the same clothes as the day before. The two stood up and walked single file up the stairs to the bedroom.
Michael walked into the bathroom with Mariah following close behind. He went over to the toilet and closed the door behind him while she looked at herself in the mirror. She heard the toilet flush and walked over to it. Michael threw the door open and she jumped back, the door almost hitting her toe.
"Sorry!" He shouted nervously.
She looked down at her toe with a shy smile on her face. "It's okay, it's okay."
He stooped down to examine her toe. Once he determined she wasn't hurt he darted back up, flashed his eyes at her, and hurried over to the sink to wash his hands. She squatted over the toilet and left the door open behind her. She stared at him while he washed his face, noticing how he didn't even look at himself in the mirror. When she was finished, she flushed the toilet and got up to wash her hands.
They stood next to each other at the vanity brushing their teeth and passing curious looks through the mirror so the other wouldn't notice. When he finished brushing, Michael picked up the Listerine and made a sour face to prepare himself for the mouth rinse. She stared at him and giggled as he cringed swishing the strong minty liquid around his mouth. He closed his eyes and spat out the mouthwash, dry heaving from disgust. She smiled, shook her head, and gargled her mouthwash.
Michael headed over to the shower and took his shirt off. She eyed him intently before doing the same. He looked over at her, confused. She looked down shyly and they stripped the rest of their clothes off in unison. He stepped into the shower and she followed him.
They stood there, awkwardly, before she grabbed her soap and lathered her body. He stared at her in awe of her beauty. He tapped her arm and pointed at his soap dish behind her. She handed him the bar and he washed his body with it. She turned around and bent over to pick up her loofah. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed him quickly turned around to conceal his growing erection.
She stood up, turned towards him and tapped him on the shoulder to get him to turn around before squeezing behind him to pick up her shampoo. She closed her eyes and washed her hair, trying hard not to elbow him in the face. He did the same before reaching around her to shut the water off.
Michael opened the shower door and they tried to step out at the same time. They looked at each other anxiously and he held his hand out. "You first."
She stepped out of the shower haphazardly and slipped on the hardwood floor. He caught her before she hit her head and held her up against him. She panicked and rushed over to her towel before quickly exiting the bathroom and slamming the door behind her. She stood on the opposite side of the bathroom door, closed her eyes, and sighed in relief. After their big fight and reconciliation, she felt like a deer in headlights around him. He gave her this clumsy schoolgirl with her high school crush feeling--like they were truly meeting for the first time.
March 14th, 1997
Earlier that morning, Michael received confirmation from Tommy that the two million Pat owed was placed in her old expense account. When he received the confirmation, he stepped outside the main house and walked about a for a while until he reached the petting zoo area. Ready to finally put an end to the situation, Michael called he and Mariah's personal accountant to have his cut of the money transferred to Pat's old expense account.
"Hey Denise, I need you do me a favor."
"Of course, Michael. What do you need?"
"I need you to transfer a million dollars into an account."
"A million dollars?" Denise responded in utter disbelief. "Michael, what is this for, this is a huge expense."
"I just owe someone something. Can you please do it for me?"
Denise took a contemplative sigh. "Okay, so I need the name, account number, and the address of the bank then I can transfer it. But I do want to let you know that you have charges of nearly two hundred and fifty thousand dollars over budget on the American Express card."
"Yeah, I know. We needed things for the house."
"Okay Michael, I just want you to be careful. You're already facing a twenty million dollar lawsuit and you still need to recover the money you're spending on these personal projects. I'm gonna speak with your banker about the catalog too, hopefully that will help out a lot."
Michael sighed. He had recently made extravagant purchases, and with donating the proceeds from his HIStory tour, he incurred significant financial losses. "Alright, I know Denise. But yeah, her name is Patricia Carey, the account number is BA777-"
"Wait, hold on. So the number is DA77-"
"No, I said B-A-7-7-7776." He clarified.
"BA777776, correct?"
"Yes."
He continued on to tell her the address of the bank and she asked him once more if he was sure that he wanted to transfer the money. He responded affirmatively and she informed him that the money would be in the account by Monday. He hung up the phone and continued on around the estate to visit Pat.
March 14th, 1997
Pat was in the kitchen watching Eileen prepare her lunch.
"Eileen, do you think you could put a bit more pepper in that? I don't think it's seasoned enough."
Eileen nodded. "Of course, Ms. Carey."
She heard a loud knock on the door and got up from the table to open it.
"Who is it?"
There was a laugh. "Pat it's me."
She opened the door with a grin. "Come on in Michael, I was just about to have lunch. Care to join me?"
He shook his head as he stepped inside. "No, I'm probably going to try and have lunch with Mariah if she lets me."
"You two still aren't talking?" Pat asked, gesturing for him to sit.
She wasn't too surprised, her daughter was hot-headed and tended to hold grudges.
"We're talking, it's just really awkward." He explained as he took a seat across from her. "But anyway, I came to tell you that the money should be in the account by Monday."
Pat nodded. "Oh, good, good, good. So we're done with him then?"
"Yeah, we're done with him." Michael looked at his nails before continuing. "But now you've got to find yourself a new home."
Pat sighed. "Yes, I know. I've been looking for work, but it's hard finding work at my age."
"I'm sure you'll find something." Michael said.
Pat had the means to move out, but she was enjoying her stay at Neverland. It wouldn't hurt if she stayed a little while longer.
"I'll keep looking Michael, but I can't make any promises." Pat said.
Michael smiled. "Thanks Pat, but you gotta look while we're gone. You have to be out of here by the time I leave for the tour."
Pat nodded. "I know, I know. Don't worry Michael, I'll find something."
March, 17th, 1997
It was a bright morning in Aspen where Michael and Mariah had just arrived at The Little Nell Hotel.
They were ushered in the back entrance and greeted by hotel personnel who took their luggage up to their suite.
"This is beautiful." Michael noted.
Mariah peered around the hallway taking note of the all the artwork.
They walked up to an elevator where an elevator bellhop greeted them, completely starstruck.
The hotel manager looked at the bellhop. "The Paepcke Suite, please."
When they made it up to their floor, they got off the elevator with Wayne, Bill, and Vicki following them. They walked down a long hallway until they reached their suite. The manager opened the French doors and handed Michael and Mariah each a key.
"Here you are, Mr. and Mrs. Jackson." The hotel manager exclaimed. "If you need anything, please contact me directly and I'll make sure it's handled. I hope you enjoy your stay at The Little Nell."
Michael and Mariah smiled at her and she stepped out of the room to see Wayne, Bill, and Vicki to their three bedroom suite.
Michael looked around the room and walked back towards the patio. He went out on the deck and took in the scene of the mountains and the crisp, clean, air. Mariah followed behind him. "Nothing like California or New York, is it?" Mariah asked.
"Not at all." Michael chuckled. "No smog, no traffic, no stalkers. Just me and my baby." He turned to her and smiled.
She smiled sheepishly and walked back into the suite. After she entered the bedroom, she hung up her coat and took shoes off, tipping her big suitcase over on the floor and unzipping it. Michael walked in, taking his coat off and slipping off his ankle boots to help her unpack.
He snuck up behind her, pressing his body against her. "Wow, you brought a lot of stuff." He joked.
She turned her head around and playfully scowled at him.
She pulled out her makeup kit and went to sit it on the bathroom counter. She returned to the bedroom to see Michael pulling out her clothes. She brushed past behind him and picked her clothes off the bed to put them in the closet area.
He looked over at her, studying her body. She turned around and his eyes momentarily widened. She looked at him from under her lashes.
Mariah had on a tiny jean skirt, black tights, and a shrunken pink graphic tee that read: 'Cutie Pie'. Michael took note of the writing before noticing something else.
Is she wearing a bra?
Mariah walked back over to the bed, picking up her toothbrush container before squeezing behind Michael, her rock hard nipples poking his back.
He smirked. Guess not.
She returned to the room, growing warmer from the heat and sat down on the bed. She bunched her skirt up and pulled off her tights, revealing her bare bottom. Michael licked his lips.
She's not wearing any panties either. Gahdamn.
She pulled her skirt back down and threw her tights into their complimentary laundry basket. He attempted to refold a t-shirt--stealing glances at her ever so often.
She stood straight up with her back turn towards him and scanned the room.
"Hey, where's the little black box with my studs in them?"
"Right here." He replied, pointing near the pillow at the head of the bed.
She skipped over to him, her breasts bouncing up and down with every little hop.
She looked him up and down with bedroom eyes. "Thanks."
They spent a few more minutes unpacking the rest of their things in silence, frequently brushing up against each other to get back and forth from the closet area and the bathroom creating a stirring friction between the two of them. And though their interactions were still a little awkward and choppy, both of them could feel the thick sexual tension in the air constantly building on itself--waiting to implode.
March 24th, 1997
Mariah came out of the bathroom when she noticed Michael had changed into his pajamas and was getting into bed.
"You're going to sleep?" She asked.
He nodded. "Yeah, I'm really tired today for some reason."
Mariah frowned, worried. "Are you having another flare up?"
"Nah," he laid down. "We were out late last night, so that's probably it."
Mariah was quiet for a moment. "Well, I'm gonna head down to the pool then and let you get some sleep."
"Have fun." He said, rolling over and closing his eyes.
She went over to the dresser and searched for her bathing suit. She pulled out a baby blue bikini and changed into it, grabbing a beach towel as she quietly slipped out of the bedroom.
When she got to the pool, she noticed Vicki sitting on the side dipping her feet in the water. Mariah set down her towel, eyes not leaving Vicki. She was curvy with big, bright eyes, Mariah could understand why Michael would be attracted to her.
But he's not, he's only interested in you. She reminded herself.
Mariah took a seat next to Vicki, who looked at her confused. "Hi, Mrs. Jackson."
"It's okay Vicki, you can just call me Mariah." She sighed. "I wanted to say I'm sorry for being so bitchy to you the other day."
Vicki's eyes grew wider. "Oh, Mrs- I mean, Mariah it's fine."
"No, it's not. I thought you were trying to come on to my husband when you weren't."
"Well, Mr. Jackson is nice, but even if he were coming onto me I wouldn't do it. I'm not interested in the whole romantic dating thing."
Mariah frowned. "Oh, come on Vicki you're super pretty and you're about to get your degree. I'm sure someone would be happy to have you."
"Yeah, I guess, but I'm asexual. I've never felt that way about anyone, ever." Vicki explained.
"Wow, really?"
Vicki nodded. "Yeah, but when I try to explain that people just tell me 'oh you just haven't found the right guy' or 'you're lying' when I really have just never felt the need to be with anybody. Like I know if someone's attractive, but I've never been attracted."
Mariah wrung her hands. "I'm really sorry Vicki, I didn't know."
"It's okay, Mariah. Really, if I were married to Michael Jackson I'd be side-eyeing people too." Vicki said with a light laugh.
Mariah smiled. "Thanks Vicki for being understanding. Friends?"
Vicki nodded. "Friends."
March 27th, 1997
Mariah zipped up her snowsuit, taking another glance in the mirror. Michael was on the other side of the room bundled up in a matching black snowsuit, hat and gloves, while Mariah opted for ear muffs. Both of them had a silver 'MJ' embroidered on their chest.
"Aww don't you look cute?" She said as he wrapped his scarf around him so that only his eyes were visible. "You look like a baby."
He said something, but it was muffled by the scarf.
She held her ear. "What was that?"
He pulled the scarf from over his mouth. "I said, 'you need a scarf too, it's cold outside.'"
"Alright, dad." Mariah picked up the scarf and draped it around her shoulders.
"That is not gonna keep you warm." He shook his head and wrapped it around her neck. "You don't need to get sick."
"Whatever." She giggled. "I don't need you to dress me."
"Would you rather I undress you?"
She giggled. "No, come on. We're supposed to meet the guy."
Out on the ski slopes, Michael and Mariah met with their instructor.
"Hi, I'm Zach and I'll be your instructor for today. First we're gonna get the skis on and then work on some basics."
They nodded and slipped their feet into the large skis, using their poles to hold them up.
Zach was watching them both and when they were finished, he spoke. "Alright, so we're gonna go to the top of the slope. What you wanna do is tilt your ski on its side and then walk up sideways."
Mariah did as Zach told her, carefully balancing herself with the help of the poles. Michael was scaling the mountain much quicker than her.
"Mike! Wait up!" She laughed as she tried to follow him up the hill.
He glanced back at her. "Mimi you gotta keep up!"
She grunted as she tried to hurry up the hill where Michael was waiting for her.
"Took you long enough." He teased.
She rolled her eyes and turned her attention to Zach.
"Alright so I want you two to balance, feet hip-width apart and then slide down the hill."
Michael nodded and pushed off while Mariah was still adjusting her skis.
Show off.
She pushed off after him and easily slid down the slope where Michael was waiting for her.
"This is pretty easy. We didn't need an instructor for this." He said.
Mariah was amused. "Yeah sure, it's easy now. Bet you can't go on the big slopes though."
"Oh shush." He said, starting back up the slope.
She laughed and trudged up behind him. Zach nodded when they reached the top. "Very good you two. Now I want to work on turning. So what I want you to do is turn your left foot so that you'll make a turn. Then I want you to turn forward and then to the other side. It needs to be gradual so you make an 's' in the snow. Think you two can handle that?"
"Of course." Michael said and started down the slope again.
Mariah followed more slowly, carefully following Zach's instructions when she heard a yelp. She looked up from her feet, where Michael was splayed out on the snow. She slid up beside him, using her poles to slow down.
"I thought it was easy." She taunted.
He glared up at her, playfully and she pushed herself off and went down the hill. A few seconds later she felt something land on her back and Michael was now standing triumphantly further up the hill. He had thrown a snowball at her.
Oh now this means war.
March 27th, 1997
Michael and Mariah were back to the hotel preparing for an evening on the town after their excursion at Highland Bowl. Michael dressed in fitted black slacks that went up to his belly button and made his legs seem endless, black leather Jodphur boots with silver accents, a tucked in ivory boyfriend shirt buttoned all the way to the top, and a cropped waist-length polyester jacket with loops and designs on the shoulders. The front of his hair was pulled back into a ponytail at the crown of his head and the curls in the back hung down on his shoulders.
"You ready birthday girl?" Michael asked, putting on his black wayfarers.
Mariah shot a smile at him and stood up.
Michael looked at her in awe and removed his shades, his eyes gaping at the sight. Mariah was wearing a sleek black ball gown with a studded heart-shaped neckline that poofed out at the bottom and exaggerated their height difference. Her hair was styled in a high bun, held in with diamond and pearl studded barrettes and complemented by a long side bang that covered her right eye. Chandelier earrings and a diamond evening necklace bedazzled her glowing bronze skin.
He looks like a sexy dorito, she thought of her husband.
"Re- Oh, wait, I almost forgot something!"
She rummaged through the purse she carried with her when they first arrived in Aspen. She pulled out one silk-thin white sequined glove and placed it on her right hand, paying homage to her husband.
Michael burst out laughing. "Oh my god!" He chuckled in between his words, gripping his stomach. "You're adorable."
She smiled ear to ear and took Michael's hand. "Now I'm ready."
March 27th, 1997
Their car pulled up to a studio Michael rented out for the night. Bill opened the door for Michael and ushered him around to the passenger's side where Michael helped his wife out of the car. Michael escorted Mariah down a bright pink carpet that lay in between gold roping that separated them from some eager and clever fans.
The two walked, arm-in-arm, through the building. When they reached the ballroom, Michael noticed that Mariah was still shivering from the brief moment they had just spent outside. Michael giggled. "I knew you should've worn a coat."
"I might be a little cold but at least I look good." She teased.
Bill and Vicki opened the doors to the ballroom. The area was lit in neon pink lighting with pink, gold, and crystal decorations everywhere. Michael had it decorated to look like a butterfly wonderland. "Surprise!"
She gazed around the room, taking in the elaborate set up. There were fairy lights hanging down from the ceiling, pink roses everywhere, and scented floating candles on the perimeter.
Over the dance floor, there was a large, translucent, light pink canopy. Off to the side of it, was an elaborately decorated dinner table with two servers standing nearby. Both servers were dressed in ivory uniforms with pink accents. Mariah's first name was projected across the entire floor.
Large portraits of Mariah hung from the 6 crystal Juliet balconies. An oversized pink and gold throne sat at the head of the floor up on a stage, with a crystal crown and scepter on the small table next to it.
Near the stage, a fifteen-piece orchestra, all dressed in ivory suits and gowns with pink accents, sat behind a glass booth. To top it all off, there were real butterflies flying around overhead, all with pink and purple wing designs.
Mariah was speechless. She reached her hand up to try and catch a butterfly before turning back towards Michael and running into his arms. He held back a smile and said, "Happy Birthday baby."
"Your highness, would you like to take your seat at your royal throne?" A female voice called out from behind.
Mariah flashed her head around then looked back at Michael. "Is she talking to me?"
Michael giggled. "Yes, your highness."
Mariah smiled shaking her head. "Boy you are too much."
She smirked at him again before taking a seat on the grandiloquent throne while Michael stood in front of her with a spotlight on him.
"Vicki?"
Vicki scurried from the other side of the room with a binder and a microphone. She stopped and handed the microphone to Michael and then began passing out sheet music to the orchestra.
Michael grinned at her. "So this a song I composed for my lovely wife, Mrs. Mariah Jackson. Happy birthday Mimi."
Your love is magical, that's how I feel
But I have not the words here to explain
Gone is the grace for expressions of passion
But there are worlds and worlds of ways to explain
To tell you how I feel
But I am speechless, speechless
Just as Michael paused the orchestra picked up and played the instrumental. He walked up to her and offered a hand. "May I have this dance?"
She shyly took his hand. "How could I say no?"
He led her to the floor and they began an elegant waltz. She allowed him to lead her through the dance since she knew she wasn't a good dancer.
"You look so beautiful right now." He whispered in her ear.
She rested her head on his shoulder, smiling.
She accidentally stepped on his foot. "Sorry."
He laughed. "You still have no coordination."
She pulled back from him and looked him in the eye. "Well you were supposed to teach me how to dance. And yet here I am, nearly seven years later. Still can't dance."
"You can't say I didn't try though. God, you had no rhythm. Like none. None at all. Zero rhythm. Na-"
She laughed, "Alright, I get it. I know I can't dance. But damn! Aren't we supposed to be revisiting that dance lesson tonight, anyway?"
The soft music was soon replaced with Get On The Floor.
"Uh-really Michael? Your own song?" She laughed so hard she snorted.
He winked. "Best dance music I could find. Now come on, 'get on the floooooor, and dance with meeeeeee!"
She shook her head. "Unbelievable."
"So what do you wanna do first?" He asked.
"Umm, wait. How am I supposed to dance in these heels?"
"Oh--don't you worry about that. Vicki..."
Vicki ran over to her bag and pulled out a gold box. She brought it up to Michael who opened it to reveal a pair of pink and white loafers with tan bottoms and a small inscription that read: For Mrs. MJ.
Mariah covered her mouth and laughed as happy tears rolled down her cheeks. Michael sat the box on the floor and got on one knee. He raised her foot up to unbuckle and slip off her open toe heels. He rested her foot on his leg while he reached down to pick up one of her brand new, custom designed penny loafers, placing it cozily on her foot. He looked up at her. "It fits!"
She smiled and shook her head, tears still soaking her face. He did the same with the other foot and stood up to pull her in for a hug. She grabbed his face and kissed him instead before pulling back to skip around in her new shoes. It was the first time she had kissed him in a long time.
He laughed. "Come back! You still need to get this lesson."
She skipped back over to him. "Okay, teach me."
"What do you wanna know?"
She thought for a moment. "Show me your spin move!"
"Okay, well you start off on your right toe and left heel, then you just push off on your toe and turn with it."
"Slow down!" She hiked up her gown. "So I start on my right toe?"
"Yes."
"And left heel?" She looked down, completely focused on her feet.
"Mhm."
"Then I just push down and slide?" She followed his directions and only made it about half way around the full spin.
Michael laughed. "Baby no. You've gotta follow through. Like this." He pushed off on his right toe and made a complete spin.
She tried again. "Okay like this?"
He put his hand over his forehead. "Okay why don't we try something else?"
"Okay what about that thrust you do when you perform Billie Jean and stuff? I got the white glove." She flashed her glove and he gave a wide grin.
"You mean this?" He asked as did his crotch pop.
Her eyes got big and she bit her lips. "Yeah!"
He laughed so hard he nearly fell on the floor. "Now why do you wanna do that?"
"Because it's sexy." She said, batting her eyelashes. "You know what, how about I just watch you do it? It's much sexier when you do it."
He smiled and clamped his lips down. "I'm embarrassed now."
She rolled her eyes and smiled. "Whatever boy."
March 27th, 1997
Michael and Mariah danced until their legs were tired. They sat down at the dinner table and waited for their first course to be served.
"Good evening your royal highness. My name is Mathias and I will be your waiter tonight. Can I offer you something to drink?"
"What do you have?" Mariah asked.
"Tonight we have your choice of ice water, green tea, lemonade, and sparkling grape juice."
Mariah glanced at Michael and smiled. "Grape juice?"
Michael shrugged.
"I'll have the grape juice." She said.
"And you, Mr. Jackson?"
"I'll do the same." Michael replied.
As Mathias served them their grape juice, Michael and Mariah talked about the eventful day they had until they were interrupted by a waitress carrying a tray.
"Your royal highness. Mr. Jackson. For your first course we have a roasted caprese crostini with prosciutto and a balsamic drizzle." The waitress sat a rectangular plate down and used tongs to place each two crostini on both their appetizer plates.
Michael and Mariah said their thank-yous and bit into their crostini. "This is excellent." Mariah said.
Michael looked up from his plate. "I'm glad you like it."
As they finished their crostini, Mathias walked in the room to collect their plates with the waitress close behind him carrying a large tray with two covered plates on them. The waitress sat both their dinner plates down and opened them in unison. "For your main course, we have for you a seafood linguini, tossed in a light tomato passata. Enjoy your meal!"
"This looks amazing!" Mariah exclaimed.
The two immediately dug into their dishes.
Mariah was finishing up her pasta when Michael stood up. "I have to step out a moment. I'll be right back."
She looked up at him with a mouth full of shrimp. "Mhm."
Michael quickly returned in the room with a three layer chocolate cake that had sparklers lit at the top. When he made it over to the table he sat the cake down, slowly. She looked down at the cake that was covered in chocolate buttercream frosting. There was sloppy writing on top of the cake that read: Muriuh, yuur 27!
She screamed laughing.
"I made it myself." Michael explained. He was kind of telling the truth. What really happened was that he asked Bill to run to a local grocery store to buy him some Betty Crocker cake mix, cooking utensils, and thick buttercream frosting. He followed the box directions and made the cake back at the hotel while Mariah was down at the pool.
"I can tell. Who's Moo-ree-ooh?" She asked jokingly.
He shook his head. "You for tonight. Look, the 'a's are hard to do, okay? Now, make a wish."
She closed her eyes then blew out her sparklers.
"Okay now let's eat this cake. I'm curious to see how you did on it."
Michael grinned and cut into the cake, thrilled to see his wife smiling again.
March 28th, 1997
It was two o'clock in the morning and Michael was asleep. Mariah lay awake in bed utterly bored. She got up quietly and walked over to the bar area. She pulled on the wine refrigerator and it didn't open.
Fuck, it's locked.
She searched around the bedroom until she found the key to the refrigerator and walked back over to open it. She pulled out a bottle of Rose. She popped it open and poured the wine into a small wine glass. She took a sip of it savoring every drop. It had been awhile since she had a drink. Michael made sure to store away any alcohol to the point of calling ahead to restaurants they ate at and asking for the wine menus to be removed.
She sighed before refilling her glass and walking back into the bedroom.
When she returned to the room she sat her glass on the nightstand and laid down in the bed. She felt a little buzz and soon became giggly and overly affectionate. She started feeling all over Michael's chest, trying to wake him up, but he wouldn't budge. She tried running her fingernail over his arm, playing in his hair, and rubbing on his lower stomach. He'd occasionally smile but never completely opened his eyes.
She huffed. Her buzz was rapidly wearing off and she was becoming increasingly horny. She stood up, went over to the dresser, and pulled out a scarf. Mariah sat the scarf on the bed and proceeded to strip down until she was completely nude.
Michael cracked open his eye and stared at her.
After tying the scarf around her mouth, she began to stroke her clit. Her eyes closed shut as a slight breeze brushed over her nipples. She repositioned her fingers onto the right side of her clit. Her pussy was so slick that her fingers kept slipping off as she increased her speed. She moaned involuntarily, hastening her pace.
Michael grew hard under the sheets.
Mariah lifted the scarf a bit and tasted her fingers.
Michael began to stroke himself while staring at her. Her entire body was deeply tanned, making her skin shimmer under the moonlight. She looked perfect to him.
Feeling like a slutty virgin all at the same time, Mariah decided to ease her fingers inside her sticky wet cunt. She used her right hand to stroke her clit as her fingers on her left hand curved up inside her, searching for an orgasm.
Michael threw the sheets back and pumped his dick vigorously. She felt his eyes on her and that turned her on even more. "Fuck me!" She shouted. "Fuck the shit out of me!"
Michael turned towards her and mouthed, "Let me have you."
She heard him but she wasn't listening. Mariah was in another world. And even though her husband lay right next to her, her head was clouded with fantasies of Michael forcing her head down to gag on his dick.
Her breath hitched and she seemingly lost all control over her mouth. "I want every bit of that nut!"
Michael looked at her and lost it. "And I'm gonna give it to you."
"You're watching me fuck myself for you? Huh? You fucking love it don't you?"
Michael went straight for her breasts and sucked on her nipples.
"Bite 'em! Bite them Motherfucker!"
He bit down lightly on her nipples as she took unfolded her right hand and rubbed her clit with entire hand--digging deep down against the pelvic bone.
Ripping her fingers out that were inside of her, she screamed, "Fuck the hell out of me!" She reached up with her left hand and began pinching her nipples until they were completely sore, forcing her to let out a throaty scream. "Fuck this pussy Michael, fuck it!"
Michael's voice deepened, "I'm gonna fuck you so good you'll feel all nine inches whenever you so much as breathe."
He climbed on top of her and prepared to enter. "Wait!" She yelled. She began rubbing her clit so fast her arm was throbbing. "Fuck, Michael, fuck!" She moaned at the top of her lungs as her body convulsed and thick cum gushed out of her. She whimpered as her body jerked up over and over again.
Watching her climax, he stroked himself to the point of no return. He let out a deep, breathy groan and shot his semen all over her breasts before collapsing beside her.