Cherry's Dawn || Skipper and Monty

Cherry's Dawn || Chapter 2

Mature themes and strong language ahead.

==

March 1985

MONTY

The clock read two. I found myself engulfed only within the fabric of his shining outfit. As if I were the most delicate creature, his hands barely moved to open at the very top. There I lay, prepared for his anxious love, no matter the label.

His lips parted as he reached down to carefully kiss my peeking breasts. At the sensation, I smiled, only to groaned almost helplessly at the feel of his caress. He hovered above me kissing further and further down until I could feel his hand on my leg. Surely, I nearly gushed below in anticipation, but somehow hold back.

With both of his hands resting on my hips, Skip almost tugged at the pants he'd blessed me with just minutes before. His voice growled pulling them straight off. He sighed out loud in pleasure nearly gasping at the sight of my wetness, parting his lips once more in the name of a taste.

Above, I clenched my teeth, feeling so overwhelmed by his sudden parting of my legs. His tongue had sent me into places only matures eyes could handle, those placing being heaven and mostly hell. Only the sound of his work lapping away below mixed with my trembling cries.

My head tossed as I screamed out the name I'd learned three years ago, the name he loathed if coming from anyone else. I never understood why. Below me, his voice mumbled against my wetness as he begged to taste more and more of me.

"Prince!" I'd shook. My hips bucked closer and closer to his face as he drank me, desperate to have me again. It had been this way for some time, even throughout his plethora of relationships with other women.

I didn't know what to think after he'd introduced me to Vanity, one of the most fucking beautiful woman I'd probably ever come across. She'd scored "Nasty Girl" not too long after Prince rejected my demo with Brenda and Susan. Intimidation couldn't even begin to describe my thoughts.

Yet, Skip and I made love, again.

___

Hours later, his arms embraced my weak body in bed. Blankets rustled all around us in dim lighting. My eyes had barely turned to face him when his lips trapped my own. I held back a chuckle once feeling mustache brush against me.

"Where are you going?" he asked, pecking my lips again.

"Studio."

"Fly back with me." He almost shuddered against the back of my neck.

"I can't."

"Please?" he begged once more.

"No." His lip pouted, but I couldn't change anything.

His presence followed me around the floor completely nude and anxious yet again. With every piece of clothing, I tried and failed to reach the bathroom when his trapped mine, forcing the clothes to drop on that floor.

His tongue danced with my own as he caressed my face with only thumbs. Our bodies quickly together in one swift move. He offered a low chuckle against my lips as a shadow formed around the heat we'd built. I wrapped my arms around his, suddenly feeling his erection against and chewed down on my bottom lip.

"Sorry, I gotta go." I answered pulling away.

___

With a stiff voice, I returned to my Los Angeles condo around six in the evening. My heels nearly turned to visit my unit when a Black men smiled in my direction. The grin I'd just seen forced his dark skin to brighten up through joy. His lean but strong arms clutched a bouquet of Violets and this lavender scented gift bag.

"Excuse me, Ms. Hughes," he stopped to look around and whisper close to me. "But Michael Jackson delivered these gifts to you."

My eyes nearly bucked out of awkwardness and surprise, but I faked a smile thanking the employee and calmed back into my easy-going stride. Sudden variations in movement would concern those nearby. Hurrying, I walked to the nearest elevator to hope work on time for myself before truly observing these "presents" from Michael.

In my bedroom, I carefully took out contents from the gift bag. The bouquet now rested within a small vase of water near the kitchen. On my bed, I looked over an enveloped card, this autographed Victory album, a contained fudge brownie (with two chocolate covered strawberries on top) and the cutest bottle of sweet perfume.

I never thought friends could be so generous at the most random times. Michael and I hadn't seen each other since dropping out of the shutterbug crawling restaurant that day. I could barely say anything to Skip before Michael rushed me off. His security trailed behind him at light speed as Michael gripped my hand. It'd been a miracle it never turned blue or even crushed.

Now, I awkwardly tore open the envelope and pushed up my glasses before sitting on the edge of my bed. I chuckled for a moment adjusting to his scribble on the page and went on to read. There was only silence in the room.

Brenda Michelle,

Hope you enjoy the little care package I set up for you. It's not much, but I just wanted to make you smile, especially since we haven't seen each for a few weeks. Our last meet-up didn't finish in the best way, either. You're one of the most caring people I've met and that's saying a lot considering our profession.

Call me soon.

-Mike