And he didn’t have to wait for long...
A small creak startled him and turning around to the door he watched it opening slowly and as the light from the corridor crept for just a second in his room he was able to see a small and thin silhouette entering the room. The door closed with another creak and the room became dark again.
“Who’s there?” Michael asked not bothering to stand up. It was probably another fan that managed somehow to bribe the right persons to get to his room. It would not be the first time when something like that happened and even thought Michael never understood or exactly found out how those girls passed the hotel’s security and his own guards and even got the key to his room, he never gave too much thought to the matter. It was one of the things that came with the package of being the King of Pop he believed and he just learnt to ignore it.
“Happy Birthday Michael!” a whispered woman’s voice answered him from the door frame and for some reason his skin rose in goose bumps. It sounded somehow familiar that voice or maybe it was just the effect of the pills and the alcohol. Anyway, all of a sudden the idea of having in his room a crazed groupie willing to satisfy all his needs didn’t seem irritating at all, on contrary.
“Thanks dear,” Michael grinned and he finally stood up. The alcohol and the numerous pills he gulped down were indeed starting to have an effect on him; his head feeling light and dizzy; his view blurred and his feet not responding properly to his commands.
“What’s your name?” Michael stammered his words and then laughed at his own babble and then stumbling on his feet he got closer to the woman still standing in the door frame.
She was wrapped in a long, black fur coat; strange for that time of year but Michael was too giddy to think about that; and even stranger, bare footed. Her face was hidden behind a veil of red hair but the features that you could see were beautiful and sophisticated; full lips colored in a deep red shade; long lashes with a thick layer of mascara, flushed cheeks and white porcelain skin.
“You can call me Lucy,” she grinned showing her perfect white teeth and just for a moment Michael thought her voice sounded familiar again.
“Do I know you?” he asked trying to focus his look on her face but the darkness and his intoxication made it very hard for him.
“Do you want to know me?” the woman retorted, her voice husky and provocative.
Every time that woman spoke something stirred inside of Michael, making his pulse speed up and his last bits of consciousness fade, leaving him prey only to his pure and deepest desires and making him forget all notions of what was wrong and what was right. All he could think about was forms to make that woman scream his name.
So he didn’t answer her question instead he rushed upon her and pressed his lips roughly against hers, devouring her mouth and down her neck, sucking, biting on her skin; making the small woman moan and scream and finally collapse under his body weight both of them falling on the wooden floor. The fall made her fur coat slip off her shoulders revealing her perfectly naked body to Michael’s eager eyes and mouth; his lips and tongue burning to feel her, to taste her.
“Your are so sweet,” he mumbled; his teeth biting into her flesh, his lips molding perfectly to her curves and his tongue knowing so well where to lick to make her moan louder and twitch stronger. It was like his mouth was there before, like it was designed just to suck on her nipples and nibble on her ear; it was a perfect match that continued with his hands too; his fingers knowing exactly where to go, in what spot to caress and where to nip; her breasts feeling so right in the scoop of his palms and her skin reacting every time he dug his nails in her shoulders, making her tremble and squirm.
“Can I have you?” he asked, he groaned fighting to liberate himself from the restraint of his clothes and when he managed to get rid of his jeans and shirt he didn’t wait for her answer, he just plunged inside her in one long and hard push making her hiss and scream in pleasure.
“I’m your birthday present Mr. Jackson,” the woman moaned thrusting her hips to meet his every stroke.
“Say my name,” Michael growled, “say it, just say it,” he mumbled thrusting harder and harder inside her, the feeling of her body tightening around him so strongly making him go wild, making him unleash and forget anything else that wasn’t this woman’s body.
“Michael, Michael, oh Michael, I love you,” she obeyed his orders and yelled his name as waves after waves of energy and electricity ran through her with his every deep push.
“Michael, I love you, I love you, Michael, Michael…” her voice echoed around his head over and over again and made Michael feel shivers running down his spine and closing his eyes he saw light, colors, stars, shapes and forms; he saw moves and steps and slowly her voice subsided to the sound of strings, chords and violins. It was a song; maybe a song he heard before, maybe a song he had to bring to light; a loud song, a beautiful song blurring his mind even more but offering him pleasure, ecstasy even.
“Michael, oh Michael,” the woman moaned one more time, digging her long nails deep into his flesh and bringing him back from his world. He opened his eyes and for a moment she seemed so known again but her lips crushing against his with despair and lust and her whole body tightening and throbbing around him with so much force made Michael see all those shapes and colors exploding in his head again and finally all his energy was released in a grueling and almost violent orgasm.
“Happy Birthday Michael!” the mysterious woman whispered once more but he was already lost; the pills, the liquor, the exhaustion, the struggle and the contradiction, the pain and the pleasure making him finally fall asleep, there on the floor; his naked body sunk in sweat and showing off the signs of the ecstasy and rapture.
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