Sex Instructor (A Michael Jackson Fan Fiction)

Chapter 28: Just Butterflies

WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SEXUAL ACTS AS WELL AS MENTIONS OF BDSM. IF YOU ARE A MINOR OR ARE NOT COMFORTABLE WITH EITHER OF THESE THINGS PLEASE BE AWARE OR DO NOT READ.

*Angel's POV*

"Let the show begin."

I gulped all the air I could find and tried to push away the warmth that was bugging all of my body. Michael's tiny whip was rising goosebumps, slow like a flowing sand clock while building the tension higher than it should. My eyes avoided any sort of connection with Michael, his hand or his whip, I just stared at the roof since I was leaning backward anyway.

"Welcome to sex muscles one o' one, not only will I be teaching and showing you but also testing you, Ms. González. Feel free to ask questions any time." Michael's voice was all I paid attention to as I looked at the soft red light on the ceiling, this was like a hypnotic experience, I felt on a natural high, a sex high.

"I know you're most likely doing anything but paying attention," he approached my face and whispered next to my cheek, "so I suggest you try your best and snap out of the trance, this is your doing. On the bright side, you're much more sensitive which means you'll feel everything ten times better, and I know you must be feeling amazing. Body-wise, at least." His hand brushed over my corset, and even under the material, I could imagine what his skin felt like. He pulled back and stood straight once again.

"Firstly, we all know the powerhouse of pleasure," he directed the whip to my womanhood and tapped it twice making me whine, "but the powerhouse is connected to everything else, believe it or not, every single part of your body can react to stimulus, but only if your body is in sync. Which doesn't have to happen all the time."

"What do you mean by 'in sync'?" I asked comfortably since learning is what I'm here for at the end of the day.

"Ok, your body has to be in sync with the brain, which of course it is all the time but when it comes to sex, it's either really focused or completely out of it." Michael kept walking around me while talking, swinging the whip around the air in sink with his words, "Think of this; your typical mediocre and quick sex, it's good but let's be real...you're only feeling it down here." he let his fingers gently caress the material over my lower abdomen.

"Isn't that where you're supposed to feel it?" I scoffed, making him sigh.

"Dollface, I know you're not in the right state of mind right now so I'll let your foolishness slide. Like I was saying, when you really want to feel and experience what sex is, you have to be open to the spiritual experience, for much better results. By results, I mean insane pleasure."

Why does he sound like he's convincing me to go to church? Oh no, this isn't the time to think about church, is it?

"If the partner knows what they're doing, they are able to connect each body part and let them rest in sink. It's a complex process but worth it in the end." his hand was still on my lower abdomen, "In other words, passionate and slow sex...equals," he tapped "good sex."

"But don't you like rough sex?" I asked again, eager to hear his answer now. Michael's eyes met mine as a tiny grin crept up his lips.

"Yes, indeed I do. But that's because I happen to know all and everything there is to know about sex, so I can make it work both ways. Plus, when have I ever given you rough sex from the get-go Ms. González?" I felt the cold leather of the whip travel along my neck, "As far as I'm concerned I always initiate our sex with the finest of touches...and then I proceed to fuck the living daylight out of you." His words were like ice grazing along my skin, torturous but addicting. The mere memory of all the times our body connected deliciously was rising fire from my veins.