I'm warning everyone right now that this is a borderline lemon
Swinging your feet on the edge of the counter, you thought of what to do to pass the time.
Michael had been with you for as long as you could remember, seeing as you were the only person in his past he hadn't learned to hate.
Sighing in defeat, you decided you'd cook to pass the time. Michael never said it, he never said anything really, but from his reactions, he seemed to really enjoy strawberry rhubarb pies. Being the nice girlfriend you were, you gathered all the ingredient and played some music out loud, humming along to the lyrics, and began you fruity pastry.
You had started with the crust, mixing all the dry ingredients then all the wet ones and finally mixing those together and tasted the batter, adding small things here and there to your liking.
Once you got the batter in the pan, you got to work on the filling, a large smile forming on your face when you heard your boyfriend's heavy footsteps entering the living room.
Just as he came in, a devious thought popped into your head and you turned to your phone, whispering to your Siri to play a song you hadn't heard in a long time. Hearing your Siri respond, your simple only grew.
My anaconda don't, my anaconda don't, my anaconda don't want none unless you've got buns, Hun
Singing along with the lyrics, you heard a grunt in the other room, signalling he had heard you. Feigning innocence, you continued singing through the first verse while finishing up the pie's filling.
Hearing Micheal come in, you smirked, hearing the first verse end. Turning around, you looked him straight in the eye, singing the lyrics to the second verse.
This dude named Michael used to ride motorcycles. Dick bigger than a tower, I ain't talking about Eiffel's.
Maintaining eye contact, you saw Michael stiffen at your words.
Real country ass anaconda, let me play with his rifle. Pussy put his ass to sleep, now he calling me NyQuil.
Composing himself, he walked towards you, a bulge noticeable in his pants.
Now that bang bang bang, I let him hit it 'cause he slang Cocaine. He toss my salad like his name Romaine. And when we done, I make him buy me Balmain. I'm on some dumb shit.
Feeling his hands on your waist, you looked up at him, an innocent smile dancing across you lips as you felt him press against your body, his eyes drowning out the rest of the song.
Michael lifted his mask, only enough to to show his lips, before pressing them against yours in a passionate kiss, hard enough to leave a bruise tomorrow.
Kissing him back just as hard, you wound your arms around his neck before pulling away.
"Now now Michael, I'm in the middle of baking. How about I finish this up and then we can continue?"
Grunting in displeasure, Michael looked at you with an 'are you serious' look before backing away half heartedly, turning to walk to your combined room. Before he could get far, stopped him in his tracks.
"Although, before you go, I've got a little something for you."
Turning around whit a mix of hope and annoyance in his eyes, Michael watched you strut over to him, hips swaying, eyes holding a dangerous look.
Putting your hands against his chest, you glided one up and kissed him, momentarily distracting him from the hand inching its way down to his tightening pants before resting it over his pants. Catching him by surprise, he groaned into the kiss as you rubbed him through his pants before detaching your body from him and returning to your cooking, leaving Micheal thinking about how much of a tease you were and how lucky he was that you were his tease.
Tonight was going to be a long night.
