𝙽𝚘𝚝 𝚅𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚊

𝙲𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝

♡
1991.
Neverland Ranch
Word Count:2.8k

As you stepped into the dimly lit house, the echoes of laughter and the gentle thump of music still lingered in your mind from the night out with friends. The clock on the wall ticked away, signaling the lateness of the hour. With practiced ease, you disarmed the alarm, the familiar chime signaling your safe return.

The soft glow of the kitchen lights greeted you as you made your way through the familiar space, setting your purse down with a gentle thud on the counter. The coolness of the fridge beckoned, and you reached inside, retrieving a bottle of water to wash away the faint taste of the evening's indulgences.

With a satisfied sigh, you tossed the empty bottle into the bin, your movements fluid as you retrieved your purse once more. Intent on retiring for the night, you traversed the quiet expanse of the house, the only sound the hushed shuffle of your footsteps on the carpet.

But as you neared the bedroom, a low, almost imperceptible sound caught your attention. Frowning, you approached the door, the wood cool beneath your fingertips as you gently pushed it open, revealing the scene within.

There, bathed in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, lay Michael, his form illuminated in the darkness. His tousled curls framed his face, the shadows dancing across his features as he lay sprawled across the bed, his movements slow and deliberate.

Your breath caught in your throat as you took in the sight before you, his hand moving with practiced precision as he pleasured himself. The air was thick with tension, his soft whimpers filling the room as he surrendered to the pleasure, his whispered moans punctuated by the sound of your name on his lips.

For a moment, you simply stood there, captivated by the raw intensity of the moment. But then, unable to resist any longer, you stepped forward, your voice a mere whisper in the stillness of the night.

"Michael?"

Michael's eyes widened slightly as he scrambled to cover himself with a nearby pillow, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. "Baby, when did you get back?" he stammered, his voice thick with surprise.

"Just now, why?" you replied, your tone laced with suspicion as you closed the door behind you, the soft click echoing in the quiet room.

"I was just asking," he mumbled, his gaze darting away from yours.

"Mhmm, sure," you retorted, your eyes narrowing slightly as you crossed the room, the soft fabric of your dress falling away with each deliberate movement.

As you shed the last remnants of the evening's attire, Michael's eyes trailed hungrily over your exposed skin, the heat of his gaze almost tangible in the dim light.

"What're you doing with that all out?" you questioned, gesturing towards his exposed form with a playful smirk.

"I couldn't sleep," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment.