WARNING: this story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or not is purely coincidental. Photos are used for illustrative purposes only and photo copyrights remain with the original photographers and/or publications. This story contains graphic scenes of an intimate nature. Please do not read further if you are not of age in your jurisdiction and/or if this might offend you.
The Story of O(h) by Esaes Peligrosa
“It’s your time to shine,” he assured her. “We’ll be right there with you.”
Despite having played with a few notable musicians, Oriana was still rather unsure of herself around him. Afterall, he was music royalty—more than a king, really. He should have been called a pharaoh or a deity. She still couldn’t believe she got this gig. She knew she had talent; she had been playing since she was in elementary school. The talent wasn’t the problem. Ambition and confidence were. Until landing here, she had been content to knock about blowing from gig to gig and travelling the world. She had played in bands in Europe, Asia, and down under. Oriana cut a few records and did a track here and there, but mostly she was in her element singing and playing live, grooving and gigging with other like-minded musicians. She eventually landed a record deal and set up a WhoTube page showcasing her music, and now she was here playing with MJ. Apparently, he had seen her videos and liked what he heard—and saw. She had seen him beaming at her on more than one occasion. It was unbelievable! She was in the presence of a King!
“Come on, hit that note. Take it as high as you can and just let it sit there for a few moments.”
Wamp-wamp-waaaaaaaaamp!
Despite having played with a few notable musicians, Oriana was still rather unsure of herself around him. Afterall, he was music royalty—more than a king, really. He should have been called a pharaoh or a deity. She still couldn’t believe she got this gig. She knew she had talent; she had been playing since she was in elementary school. The talent wasn’t the problem. Ambition and confidence were. Until landing here, she had been content to knock about blowing from gig to gig and travelling the world. She had played in bands in Europe, Asia, and down under. Oriana cut a few records and did a track here and there, but mostly she was in her element singing and playing live, grooving and gigging with other like-minded musicians. She eventually landed a record deal and set up a WhoTube page showcasing her music, and now she was here playing with MJ. Apparently, he had seen her videos and liked what he heard—and saw. She had seen him beaming at her on more than one occasion. It was unbelievable! She was in the presence of a King!
“Come on, hit that note. Take it as high as you can and just let it sit there for a few moments.”
Wamp-wamp-waaaaaaaaamp!
“Come on, higher. Let it soar.”
Wamp-wamp-waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaamp!
“You’re getting there,” he said as he leaned in closer. His black stretch pants hugging his every curve as his white cotton shirt seemed to almost flutter away from his body. There was no breeze in here and the fans weren’t running, yet the shirt continued to float around as if to frame him. Subconsciously, she began to inhale more deeply. Each inspiration brought the most delicious aroma: it was vanilla mixed with some kind of spice and lavender—no it was jasmine. That was it. She closed her eyes. “Try again.”
Wamp-wamp-wooooooooomp!
‘Shoot! How had she hit that sour note?’ Oriana smiled at MJ sheepishly while blushing underneath her pageboy cap. Her golden blonde hair was pulled back into a school-girl’s ponytail and her red cheeks added to the aura of youth. “Sorry,” she apologized.
“It’s okay, just try it again,” encouraged MJ. He did not move away from her, so it was a battle to maintain control over her fingers and command them to form the chords. She closed her eyes, inhaled again, and visualized her spirit soaring up above the crowds.
Waaaamp-waaaaaaaaamp-waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaamp-wamp wamp wamp
Deetle deetle deeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
“That’s it! You’ve got it! You’ve got to let it soar to the top and just hover over their heads before you begin your descent into those notes. Great job!”
Wamp-wamp-wooooooooomp!
‘Shoot! How had she hit that sour note?’ Oriana smiled at MJ sheepishly while blushing underneath her pageboy cap. Her golden blonde hair was pulled back into a school-girl’s ponytail and her red cheeks added to the aura of youth. “Sorry,” she apologized.
“It’s okay, just try it again,” encouraged MJ. He did not move away from her, so it was a battle to maintain control over her fingers and command them to form the chords. She closed her eyes, inhaled again, and visualized her spirit soaring up above the crowds.
Waaaamp-waaaaaaaaamp-waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaamp-wamp wamp wamp
Deetle deetle deeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
“That’s it! You’ve got it! You’ve got to let it soar to the top and just hover over their heads before you begin your descent into those notes. Great job!”
“Everybody take five,” said the co-producer Lenny. Oriana was glad for the break. It was throwing her off to be so close to him. His scent was so intoxicating, it was virtually all she could think of. Well, not all; she had noticed he had a shadow of stubble along his jawline and up above his perfectly-formed upper lip. It was only noticeable once you got right up on him. From out in the audience or across the stage, he still looked like the smooth-faced man-boy the world had grown to love. She felt like she was being let in on his dirty little secret: he really was a man and not a boy. Not that she had any doubt of that. As he had leaned in to her to give her the coaching a few minutes ago, she could hear his breathing. The closer he got, the deeper the breaths seemed to get. His voice also took on more bass; it was if he forgot himself for a moment. Normally the world was treated to a higher pitched voice that more closely resembled the piercing tenor of his youth. She had noticed him dropping the pitch of his voice on rare occasions when he was really concentrating or just having fun.
And then there was that other matter. He had leaned in to her in almost a lunging position. One leg was bent at the knee coming in towards her while the other was extended behind him. At one point, he brought that back leg up closer to the other one in almost a semi-squatting position; she was a bit embarrassed to say it, but she thought she detected the very distinctive outline of his package in those tight pants; he seemed to be excited by the music they were practicing. She didn’t want to be obvious, but she kept checking him out for the next few minutes. She was fascinated at the size of the lump in his groin area. He was definitely bigger than she would have imagined and almost certainly bigger than most. If she wasn’t mistaken, he seemed to be…growing. Her distraction was the cause of more than one missed note.
Oriana sighed and started walking towards the catering room to get some water. The caterers always put on the most wonderful display of healthful foods. She has started eating much better and taking better care of herself since starting this gig. She now ate fresh fruit and vegetables regularly and started drinking water instead of soda. Of course, it helped that MJ always made sure he had the best waters available to keep himself hydrated and his throat moist. He seemed to prefer that water from Fiji.
Oriana sighed and started walking towards the catering room to get some water. The caterers always put on the most wonderful display of healthful foods. She has started eating much better and taking better care of herself since starting this gig. She now ate fresh fruit and vegetables regularly and started drinking water instead of soda. Of course, it helped that MJ always made sure he had the best waters available to keep himself hydrated and his throat moist. He seemed to prefer that water from Fiji.
She had been to Fiji several times as a young girl. It was the most beautiful place on Earth. The waterfalls were unrivaled and the beaches unspoiled. The people there were so friendly and carefree. Their tanned skin and wild bushy black hair reminded her of how MJ was, well, how he used to be, as a boy, when he performed with his brothers. He had the most beautiful brown skin; now his skin resembled the most delicate porcelain. He was even more pale than her own skin, especially since she had spent the past few months in L.A. Even though so much had changed about him--his skin, his hair—he was still the most beautiful man she had ever seen in her life. Most people referred to good-looking men as handsome, but MJ was truly beautiful. It took her breath away.
She spotted the rectangular translucent bottle at the far end of the table and made her way over there. On the way she picked up a few strawberries and slices of pineapple to nibble on during the break. The sugars gave her a bit of ecstasy. She made a mental note to ask Suzie, the caterer’s assistant where they got their fruit from. It might be nice to have some of it around her apartment. Not that she spent a lot of time there lately, but she should still make the effort to have something besides beer and chips in the fridge.
“You know those carbs are just going to cause you to crash later on, don’t you?” teased Erika, one of the production interns. Everyone here in L.A. seemed so health conscious; they were health conscious almost to the point of fanaticism counting not just calories, but types and sources of protein, carbs, and fat, and bragging about their level of deprivation in some sort of sick contest to see who could starve with the most cheer. Oriana had never had a problem with her weight, so she didn’t join in. She loved to eat; it was what allowed her to maintain her glossy hair, her bright shining eyes, and her soft curves. She wasn’t ashamed of filling out her blue jeans quite nicely.
“Oh, I’m so excited, I don’t think I could ever crash during any of these rehearsals!” Oriana answered. “I’m just learning so much here. It’s like speaking with God on the mountain or something. I just can’t believe I’m here playing with MJ!”
“Yeah, he is pretty awesome. I can tell he likes you,” encouraged Erika.
“Really? I mean, I’ve been messing up all day. He must be so exasperated with me,” shrieked Oriana.
“No, no! Don’t get me wrong, MJ is a really super-sweet guy, but he will definitely let you know when you don’t have your shit together. He will tell Be to have you come up to speed or you will be out of here. He doesn’t have much patience for people who don’t give 100% because he’s always gonna give 1000. I say he likes you because he is taking the time to coach you personally. He doesn’t usually do that. He has enough to worry about.”
“Yeah, I guess. I just don’t want to disappoint him, you know? It’s like, I’m trying my best, but I keep getting distracted.”
“Distracted? Oh! You mean…..?” inquired Erika.
“Well….I know he is a grown man and he has so many millions of women around the world to choose from, but he is kind of cute. I know this isn’t very professional of me, but have become a bit keen on him.” Oriana bit into a strawberry to hide her embarrassment.
“Oh yes, he is very handsome!” Erika leaned in with a conspiratorial whisper, “sometimes I just find myself hypnotized watching him. He is amazing!” Erika gave a wink then spun around, grabbed a shiny Red Delicious apple and walked quickly out of the room, her heels clicking on the tile floor while the rest of her body swayed back and forth underneath a slim pencil skirt and stylish blouse. ‘She is always dressed so fashionably,’ thought Oriana. ‘I wish I had an ass like that!’ With that thought, she bypassed the little fudge brownie squares and instead speared several pieces of kiwifruit with an extra long toothpick. Funny how she was here eating kiwi when only months ago a Kiwi had been eating her! They should be getting ready to resume rehearsals. She sighed, then headed back to the stage.
She spotted the rectangular translucent bottle at the far end of the table and made her way over there. On the way she picked up a few strawberries and slices of pineapple to nibble on during the break. The sugars gave her a bit of ecstasy. She made a mental note to ask Suzie, the caterer’s assistant where they got their fruit from. It might be nice to have some of it around her apartment. Not that she spent a lot of time there lately, but she should still make the effort to have something besides beer and chips in the fridge.
“You know those carbs are just going to cause you to crash later on, don’t you?” teased Erika, one of the production interns. Everyone here in L.A. seemed so health conscious; they were health conscious almost to the point of fanaticism counting not just calories, but types and sources of protein, carbs, and fat, and bragging about their level of deprivation in some sort of sick contest to see who could starve with the most cheer. Oriana had never had a problem with her weight, so she didn’t join in. She loved to eat; it was what allowed her to maintain her glossy hair, her bright shining eyes, and her soft curves. She wasn’t ashamed of filling out her blue jeans quite nicely.
“Oh, I’m so excited, I don’t think I could ever crash during any of these rehearsals!” Oriana answered. “I’m just learning so much here. It’s like speaking with God on the mountain or something. I just can’t believe I’m here playing with MJ!”
“Yeah, he is pretty awesome. I can tell he likes you,” encouraged Erika.
“Really? I mean, I’ve been messing up all day. He must be so exasperated with me,” shrieked Oriana.
“No, no! Don’t get me wrong, MJ is a really super-sweet guy, but he will definitely let you know when you don’t have your shit together. He will tell Be to have you come up to speed or you will be out of here. He doesn’t have much patience for people who don’t give 100% because he’s always gonna give 1000. I say he likes you because he is taking the time to coach you personally. He doesn’t usually do that. He has enough to worry about.”
“Yeah, I guess. I just don’t want to disappoint him, you know? It’s like, I’m trying my best, but I keep getting distracted.”
“Distracted? Oh! You mean…..?” inquired Erika.
“Well….I know he is a grown man and he has so many millions of women around the world to choose from, but he is kind of cute. I know this isn’t very professional of me, but have become a bit keen on him.” Oriana bit into a strawberry to hide her embarrassment.
“Oh yes, he is very handsome!” Erika leaned in with a conspiratorial whisper, “sometimes I just find myself hypnotized watching him. He is amazing!” Erika gave a wink then spun around, grabbed a shiny Red Delicious apple and walked quickly out of the room, her heels clicking on the tile floor while the rest of her body swayed back and forth underneath a slim pencil skirt and stylish blouse. ‘She is always dressed so fashionably,’ thought Oriana. ‘I wish I had an ass like that!’ With that thought, she bypassed the little fudge brownie squares and instead speared several pieces of kiwifruit with an extra long toothpick. Funny how she was here eating kiwi when only months ago a Kiwi had been eating her! They should be getting ready to resume rehearsals. She sighed, then headed back to the stage.
Oriana picked up her signature guitar and managed to make it through most of the run through for the song without too many more mishaps. It helped that MJ was otherwise occupied; he avoided any more close contact for the next few hours. She still couldn’t help sneaking glances at him out of the corner of her eyes.
He was so commanding the way he stalked the stage. He easily crossed the length of the stage in a few strides, simultaneously engaging the musicians and dancers and captivating the audience. He glided, stomped, and spun like second nature. The stage was like his territory and he marked it well, a black panther on the prowl just like in the video. She had grown up watching him dance and sing in that video and now she was here with him. This was a dream come true. As much as she enjoyed helping to make that magic happen, Oriana was relieved when Lenny called for a break. It was time to bring in the bed.
She had never seen the bed, but it seemed to be all anyone else could talk about. Supposedly, engineers and set designers had been working on the bed for months and now it was here to be unveiled for the very first time.
“Lenny, there’s a problem!” called Jan, the design assistant.
“What problem? We don’t have time for problems now. We are on a very tight schedule!” barked Lenny.
“Well, the mover crew broke for lunch half an hour ago. You know, union rules. We won’t have anybody here to move the bed for another hour and a half.
“Hijo de puta!” spat Lenny. “Okay, okay! Everyone, let’s just run through the song without the set for now. We’ve got to keep moving. Imagine the bed is there. It’s huge, so give it a wide swath when you are moving around the stage, okay?”
She had never seen the bed, but it seemed to be all anyone else could talk about. Supposedly, engineers and set designers had been working on the bed for months and now it was here to be unveiled for the very first time.
“Lenny, there’s a problem!” called Jan, the design assistant.
“What problem? We don’t have time for problems now. We are on a very tight schedule!” barked Lenny.
“Well, the mover crew broke for lunch half an hour ago. You know, union rules. We won’t have anybody here to move the bed for another hour and a half.
“Hijo de puta!” spat Lenny. “Okay, okay! Everyone, let’s just run through the song without the set for now. We’ve got to keep moving. Imagine the bed is there. It’s huge, so give it a wide swath when you are moving around the stage, okay?”
“Here is the scene: MJ lives his life on the road. As we all know, life on the road is rife with temptations…drugs, women, a life of excess. He has constantly got women throwing themselves at him, but he is able to resist; he wants nothing of that life…until her. There is just something about this woman, something unlike any of the others. She is dangerous, dirty, seductive. She offers him something he can’t get anywhere else. She excites him, but he resists. She seduces him through his music and has her way with him; they are finally engulfed by their passion.”
Oriana's throat became very dry as her mind wandered off imagining being the seductive groupie of the song. She fantasized about dancing for MJ and breaking down his defenses. What a privilege to be the one to finally win his affections. If she were to get close to him the first thing she would do is inhale his scent, his intoxicating spicy scent. She closed her eyes just thinking about it. Then she would run her hands through his curls. She wondered if he would mind her mussing up his hair, because she planned to tousle it all over his head in their hypothetical tryst. Then she would run her fingers down his jaw line and hold his face still so she could kiss those juicy lips. Her hands would roam all over his chest and broad shoulders, finally finding their way down to his ass, that magnificent ass. She would squeeze his buns greedily and eventually allow one of her hands to wander up to the front to his cock. That cock had been teasing her all day, poking out whenever he got really into whatever he was doing. She had seen it, a frequent presence in the front of his pants…and down his leg. Oh God! It had extended down his leg!
“…So let’s dim the lights and get started. Where are the smoke machines? Do we at least have the smoke machines?” Lenny commanded.
The musicians took their places at their instruments. Oriana was the only musician visible on the stage for this number. In fact, other than MJ and the aerialist, there was no one else on the stage for this song. The band ran through the chords a few times without MJ just to get the acoustics right. Oriana played her part competently, but she knew she wasn’t really putting all that much into it. The song was pretty basic from the guitarist’s standpoint until you got to the solo and improvisation at the end. She had stayed up late for the past four nights working on her solo for this song. Now, here in front of everyone she was too shy to go the route of the bold and showy feature. She stuck to playing it the way Jen had all those years; she played it exactly the way she had learned it as a girl listening to his records in her room.
“Alright! That was okay, but just okay. Be, I want you to speak with them. You all need to work on this. This number is one of the showpieces of the entire concert, and I want it to really stand out. We don’t have very much time to rehearse it so I’m calling on you to get your group together. They need to give me more!” exclaimed an exasperated Lenny.
Be beckoned everyone around in a circle. “Listen, we really need to get this together. We only have a couple of days to make this work, so I need you all to get your minds right. I’m going to really let those opening cords sink in. I want the audience to really feel them. I need those drums to be crisper, especially when you hit that high hat, okay? Oriana, I need you to really connect on your notes. It’s got to be hot--”
“It’s got to smolder,” interrupted the man himself. MJ apparently had been listening and watching for some time from the wings. He stepped up to the group and fixed his eyes directly on Oriana. “It’s got to simmer. We want them to feel the heat, to feel the build up to the seduction. No one is going to be cold when we finally get in that bed, do you understand?” He nodded his head slightly when he pronounced “understand.” Oriana’s mouth was open slightly and she had lost her voice somewhere after his second word. All she could do was to nod mutely. She had to bring the heat.
Chapter 2
Oriana tried her best to focus on the rehearsal for the rest of that afternoon. Be ran them through the rifs relentlessly, determined not to disappoint MJ. For the first time in a long time, Oriana started to get cramps in her fingers and hands. Still, she pressed on. She wanted to pull her weight. There had to be a good reason MJ chose her for this solo over the other guitarists who tried out for the tour. The last thing she wanted to do was make either him or the producer Lenny regret their decision to give her the gig.
Right now, Be was rehearsing the bass section. The keyboardist and bass guitar were going over a particular section to see if they could breathe some new life into it. Oriana welcomed the break from playing, however short it was. She could taste the salt from the sweat above her upper lip. Her hair felt greasy, and the cute little camisole she had on was soaked through because of the hot stage lights. It was a good thing she was the only female in the instrumental section because right about now, she didn’t feel so fresh; she figured the guys would be more forgiving about that.
“Let’s take it from the top…one….two…one, two, three, four!” shouted Be. They ran all the way through the song six more times before calling it quits for the day on that number. Oriana breathed a sigh of relief and said a silent prayer when he finally let them rest. One by one, the musicians packed up their gear and climbed down off the stage.
“Hey! Wait up!” called Tommy, the other guitarist. “I heard they’re finally gonna bring in the bed now. Don’t you wanna see it? I heard it’s hot.”
“Yeah, sure,” answered Oriana as they drifted down into the seats in the audience; the other musicians were already sprawled across the seats with their feet propped up. Oriana took a seat on the aisle and gratefully slung her boot across the armrest in front of her. Those black motorcycle boots had seemed like such a cool choice when she and her friend Rain had gone shopping down in Venice. Now the shoes were punishing her for daring to look cute while standing for 12 hours a day.
“…So let’s dim the lights and get started. Where are the smoke machines? Do we at least have the smoke machines?” Lenny commanded.
The musicians took their places at their instruments. Oriana was the only musician visible on the stage for this number. In fact, other than MJ and the aerialist, there was no one else on the stage for this song. The band ran through the chords a few times without MJ just to get the acoustics right. Oriana played her part competently, but she knew she wasn’t really putting all that much into it. The song was pretty basic from the guitarist’s standpoint until you got to the solo and improvisation at the end. She had stayed up late for the past four nights working on her solo for this song. Now, here in front of everyone she was too shy to go the route of the bold and showy feature. She stuck to playing it the way Jen had all those years; she played it exactly the way she had learned it as a girl listening to his records in her room.
“Alright! That was okay, but just okay. Be, I want you to speak with them. You all need to work on this. This number is one of the showpieces of the entire concert, and I want it to really stand out. We don’t have very much time to rehearse it so I’m calling on you to get your group together. They need to give me more!” exclaimed an exasperated Lenny.
Be beckoned everyone around in a circle. “Listen, we really need to get this together. We only have a couple of days to make this work, so I need you all to get your minds right. I’m going to really let those opening cords sink in. I want the audience to really feel them. I need those drums to be crisper, especially when you hit that high hat, okay? Oriana, I need you to really connect on your notes. It’s got to be hot--”
“It’s got to smolder,” interrupted the man himself. MJ apparently had been listening and watching for some time from the wings. He stepped up to the group and fixed his eyes directly on Oriana. “It’s got to simmer. We want them to feel the heat, to feel the build up to the seduction. No one is going to be cold when we finally get in that bed, do you understand?” He nodded his head slightly when he pronounced “understand.” Oriana’s mouth was open slightly and she had lost her voice somewhere after his second word. All she could do was to nod mutely. She had to bring the heat.
Chapter 2
Oriana tried her best to focus on the rehearsal for the rest of that afternoon. Be ran them through the rifs relentlessly, determined not to disappoint MJ. For the first time in a long time, Oriana started to get cramps in her fingers and hands. Still, she pressed on. She wanted to pull her weight. There had to be a good reason MJ chose her for this solo over the other guitarists who tried out for the tour. The last thing she wanted to do was make either him or the producer Lenny regret their decision to give her the gig.
Right now, Be was rehearsing the bass section. The keyboardist and bass guitar were going over a particular section to see if they could breathe some new life into it. Oriana welcomed the break from playing, however short it was. She could taste the salt from the sweat above her upper lip. Her hair felt greasy, and the cute little camisole she had on was soaked through because of the hot stage lights. It was a good thing she was the only female in the instrumental section because right about now, she didn’t feel so fresh; she figured the guys would be more forgiving about that.
“Let’s take it from the top…one….two…one, two, three, four!” shouted Be. They ran all the way through the song six more times before calling it quits for the day on that number. Oriana breathed a sigh of relief and said a silent prayer when he finally let them rest. One by one, the musicians packed up their gear and climbed down off the stage.
“Hey! Wait up!” called Tommy, the other guitarist. “I heard they’re finally gonna bring in the bed now. Don’t you wanna see it? I heard it’s hot.”
“Yeah, sure,” answered Oriana as they drifted down into the seats in the audience; the other musicians were already sprawled across the seats with their feet propped up. Oriana took a seat on the aisle and gratefully slung her boot across the armrest in front of her. Those black motorcycle boots had seemed like such a cool choice when she and her friend Rain had gone shopping down in Venice. Now the shoes were punishing her for daring to look cute while standing for 12 hours a day.
Everybody was chatting about how the rehearsal went and the latest news with the flagging world economy; things were especially bad here in California. It seemed the state was on the verge of bankruptcy. ‘How does something like that even happen?’ she thought to herself. Thank God people were still willing to pay anything to see MJ, or money might be really tight for her right about now. Gigging didn’t exactly make you rich, but it afforded her the freedom to travel from place to place and pretty much do what she wanted with her free time.
Oriana was lost in thought and absentmindedly rubbing her aching hands when a hush fell over the normally boisterous musicians. She snapped to and focused her eyes on the shadows to the far left. It was him! MJ, was strolling towards them with such grace and confidence, it was if he owned the world and had not a care. A smile played upon his lips, but his eyes were unreadable behind the dark glasses he often wore while in the theater. His hair was pulled back into a ponytail with a few tendrils released to play about his face. His lips were moist and pink and he was popping gum. He had changed since she last saw him that morning; he looked cool and refreshed unlike how she looked and felt. She hoped he couldn’t smell her sweat, though she certainly wouldn’t mind smelling his. He was so magnificent, she thought even his sweat would smell and taste good: God what she wouldn’t give to find out!
She let her eyes roam over his form as he stood by chatting with Be for a few minutes. He wore a white V-neck tee shirt underneath a red leather jacket. The leather looked soft enough to be glove leather and was interrupted here and there by random zippers. His black jeans hugged his body like they never wanted to let go; she couldn’t blame them. When he finally sat down a few rows ahead of her on the opposite side of the aisle, she noticed he still had on the same loafers from earlier when he propped his ankle up on his knee. She studied him openly, not caring whether anyone else noticed. They all seemed to be sneaking glances here and there as well; everyone was enamored of MJ. It was if a god had descended from the clouds to walk amongst the mortals of some Greek myth. He may have looked like one of them, yet they knew he was somehow better, somehow more.
He was laughing uncontrollably now, no doubt having told another one of his jokes. Oriana loved how widely his mouth opened when he laughed; she could see his white teeth studding his gums like deep sea pearls. His laughter was full and deep, the pure laughter of a child who has yet to learn one shouldn’t laugh too loudly or too often. He talked with his hands a lot, just like her father. MJ’s hands were beautiful. They were large and powerful, yet delicate and expressive at the same time. He used them to sprinkle his story with gestures in a way that was simply hypnotizing; his hands told their own story in a miniature hula in front of his body.
A loud rumbling and screeching interrupted MJ’s mirth. Others stopped their conversations to focus on the source of the noise.
“Lenny, they’re finally ready to bring it in. Tell me where you want it!” shouted Jan.
“Bueno! Have them put it off center to stage right please. I have marked off the area.”
It took the stage movers the better part of 15 minutes to wheel in the giant ironwork bed and to position it according to directions. Lenny spent most of that time having a fit about the bed possibly being damaged or the effect not being what he wanted. Jan had to talk him down several times. When it was finally where he wanted it, he stepped back to marvel at it. Most of the cast just stared wordlessly because they could not really make out the bed; it was still covered in a giant red cloth. When he was satisfied enough time had passed, Lenny turned to look at MJ seated in the audience. MJ simply nodded and inhaled deeply. Lenny turned back to Jan with his hand perched beneath his chin and his elbow propped upon his other hand. He nodded at her and she turned to the movers and dropped her hand through the air with a quick chopping motion. The red cloth came off with a flourish.
MJ had already inhaled, but a collective gasp could be heard throughout the auditorium.
It was beautiful! Absolutely beautiful! And so huge! The bed was easily the size of three or four California King sized beds put together. It was also approximately 15 feet high from its base to the top of the canopy. The platform of the bed was about six feet off the ground and could only be accessed by the hidden ladder in the back behind what would be the headboard—for a giant! The headboard and the footboard were decorated with elaborate scrollwork that swooped and swirled about like ocean waves. The sides of the bed were smooth and rounded, no doubt for ease of entry and exit, for upon closer inspection, Oriana could see hidden folding ladders built into either side of the platform as well. The entire platform was covered in what appeared to be the most luxurious mattress in the world; the crimson sheets were no doubt custom made for this one-of-a-kind wonder. The real marvel was the soaring canopy that rose from all four of the bedposts and coalesced in quadruple arches over the center of the bed. She could see strange little gadgets extending from the bed and wondered absently what they were for.
“Nice, very nice!” congratulated MJ with a hearty clap of his hands. “I love it!” he shouted up to Lenny on the stage.
She let her eyes roam over his form as he stood by chatting with Be for a few minutes. He wore a white V-neck tee shirt underneath a red leather jacket. The leather looked soft enough to be glove leather and was interrupted here and there by random zippers. His black jeans hugged his body like they never wanted to let go; she couldn’t blame them. When he finally sat down a few rows ahead of her on the opposite side of the aisle, she noticed he still had on the same loafers from earlier when he propped his ankle up on his knee. She studied him openly, not caring whether anyone else noticed. They all seemed to be sneaking glances here and there as well; everyone was enamored of MJ. It was if a god had descended from the clouds to walk amongst the mortals of some Greek myth. He may have looked like one of them, yet they knew he was somehow better, somehow more.
He was laughing uncontrollably now, no doubt having told another one of his jokes. Oriana loved how widely his mouth opened when he laughed; she could see his white teeth studding his gums like deep sea pearls. His laughter was full and deep, the pure laughter of a child who has yet to learn one shouldn’t laugh too loudly or too often. He talked with his hands a lot, just like her father. MJ’s hands were beautiful. They were large and powerful, yet delicate and expressive at the same time. He used them to sprinkle his story with gestures in a way that was simply hypnotizing; his hands told their own story in a miniature hula in front of his body.
A loud rumbling and screeching interrupted MJ’s mirth. Others stopped their conversations to focus on the source of the noise.
“Lenny, they’re finally ready to bring it in. Tell me where you want it!” shouted Jan.
“Bueno! Have them put it off center to stage right please. I have marked off the area.”
It took the stage movers the better part of 15 minutes to wheel in the giant ironwork bed and to position it according to directions. Lenny spent most of that time having a fit about the bed possibly being damaged or the effect not being what he wanted. Jan had to talk him down several times. When it was finally where he wanted it, he stepped back to marvel at it. Most of the cast just stared wordlessly because they could not really make out the bed; it was still covered in a giant red cloth. When he was satisfied enough time had passed, Lenny turned to look at MJ seated in the audience. MJ simply nodded and inhaled deeply. Lenny turned back to Jan with his hand perched beneath his chin and his elbow propped upon his other hand. He nodded at her and she turned to the movers and dropped her hand through the air with a quick chopping motion. The red cloth came off with a flourish.
MJ had already inhaled, but a collective gasp could be heard throughout the auditorium.
It was beautiful! Absolutely beautiful! And so huge! The bed was easily the size of three or four California King sized beds put together. It was also approximately 15 feet high from its base to the top of the canopy. The platform of the bed was about six feet off the ground and could only be accessed by the hidden ladder in the back behind what would be the headboard—for a giant! The headboard and the footboard were decorated with elaborate scrollwork that swooped and swirled about like ocean waves. The sides of the bed were smooth and rounded, no doubt for ease of entry and exit, for upon closer inspection, Oriana could see hidden folding ladders built into either side of the platform as well. The entire platform was covered in what appeared to be the most luxurious mattress in the world; the crimson sheets were no doubt custom made for this one-of-a-kind wonder. The real marvel was the soaring canopy that rose from all four of the bedposts and coalesced in quadruple arches over the center of the bed. She could see strange little gadgets extending from the bed and wondered absently what they were for.
“Nice, very nice!” congratulated MJ with a hearty clap of his hands. “I love it!” he shouted up to Lenny on the stage.
“You do?” he inquired. “I do, too. Very good, MJ. They made us wait long enough for it, didn’t they?” he mused while turning from MJ to Jan and back. Jan was relieved the bed and its placement met with MJ’s approval. Lord knows they would be here all night if he and Lenny disagreed on anything about it. She had to go home and feed her cat. MJ was the boss, but Lenny could be such a diva about things. She put up with him because the money was good—great, actually. She was saving up to buy new living room furniture, though heaven knows when she would get the chance to enjoy it or her beloved terrace.
The aerialist who had been practicing on the barres mounted towards the wings of the stage made her way to the bed with a series of somersaults. One of the movers moved quickly to lower the ladder on the left side of the bed, but she waived him away. She deftly sprang from her feet to the bar running along the bottom of the platform, curled her body up over itself and somehow righted herself balancing on the edge. A few of the male dancers murmured their approval; the musicians sat forward in their chairs. She strolled forward as if she were walking along a regular sidewalk. When she reached one of the back posts, she swung herself around the pole like a dancer of another sort. The male backup dancers now openly whistled and hooted. She twirled around and around, jackknifing her body higher until her feet were atop the headboard. She crawled along getting a feel for the structure. The aerialist then balanced on the back of the headboard and jumped upwards and outwards, catching the back arches of the canopy before swinging her lower body upwards. She hooked her legs over the bars and hung upside down.
Everyone in the audience erupted in applause.
Oriana looked over at MJ; he appeared mesmerized by the dancer. ‘Wait a minute…what was her name again? Pia? Yes, that’s it. Pia!’ Oriana thought to herself. She sure could move. Moves like that would make for a very interesting time in the sack. Something about a very limber woman made even the most staid men lose their minds.
“I love it!” shouted MJ to Lenny onstage. “I love everything about it. The bed is perfect! It’s grand enough to be seen from the audience, yet you all managed to maintain the look and feel of a real bed.”
“Wait ‘til you see some of our ‘special features.’ Those won’t be unveiled until tomorrow. Tonight we just wanted you to get a chance to look at it and to see the dancer up there. We wanted to give you a feel for what the finished number will be like. It’s very seductive, very hot,” replied Lenny.
Oriana thought she saw MJ lick his lips and swallow hard before he answered, “yes, very hot indeed.” With that, he rose to his feet and strode out to the middle of the room. “Everyone gather around. I would like to end the evening with a moment of thanks:
We would like to give thanks as we make our way through these next few months of rehearsal. Please give us the strength to put forth our best efforts for our fans and to spread the word of L.O.V.E., hope, and unity throughout the world. Let the people of the Earth stand as one and realize we all are brothers. Please watch over our family here. I love you all. Amen.”
Everyone squeezed the hands of the person next to them and a number of the dancers and musicians hugged one another before breaking apart to leave. The two female dancers and the one female singer, Judy approached her as she was bending over to grab her guitar.
“Hey, you wanna go catch a bite to eat with us?” asked wild haired Judy. She was young and beautiful, and a heluva singer. She and Oriana had eaten lunch together a few times in the past few weeks. “We’re all gonna go out to Trader Sue’s and maybe have a few drinks.”
“Yeah sure. I’m ready. Let’s go.” They all headed out the door to the popular dive bar up the street. Sue’s could always be counted on for a good time and a free drink or two. The girls liked to go there because Sue’s was open until after hours. They often didn’t get out of rehearsals until after 1 or 2 in the morning. They spent the four block walk chatting animatedly about the day’s rehearsal. The conversation continued when they found adjoining seats at the bar.
Sue’s wasn’t what you would call a hoity toity eatery, but what it lacked in pedigree, it more than made up for in personality. The décor was a mixture of old island colonial and 50’s diner/greasy spoon. The food was fabulous and the drinks were cheap and strong. There was always a song playing in the jukebox and always a guy or two willing to give a lady a dance. One such guy took it upon himself to send a round of drinks to the four of them as they were waiting for their appetizers. Instead of the usual supercheap Michelob guys usually “sprung” for, he sent over appletinis. The bartender didn’t even know what they were, so he had to explain how to mix them up before they were sent. That lesson cost him an extra $10.
When the bartender finally brought over the prissy little drinks, he made sure to point out the man, just in case he wanted to buy another round for the group. Oriana looked him over; he was cute! About 6 feet tall with tawny brown skin, close cropped brown curly hair, and green eyes. He raised his glass at the group to signal he was the one treating them. Oriana hadn’t had a lover in almost 3 months now. The attention made her blush and she looked away in embarrassment. When she looked back towards the man, he was making his way to the bar.
“This seat taken?” the handsome stranger asked looking directly into Oriana’s eyes.
“No, not anymore,” she answered in her Aussie twang.
“Hi, I’m Patrick. I was just admiring you beautiful ladies from across the room. I thought you might need company. If not then, I might need some myself, especially from someone as beautiful as you.” The last sentence was spoken with him beaming at Oriana. He had very white teeth. “What brings you to Sue’s?” he inquired now looking at the rest of the group.
“We work down the street,” said one of the dancers.
“We’re musicians—and dancers!” interjected Judy, remembering to include the dancers in her answer.
“Oh really? What gig are you all working?” The four of the looked at one another; Oriana shrugged indicating she thought it would be alright to reveal their main attraction.
“MJ,” she said quietly.
“Whoa! Wait a minute! THE MJ? The King of Pop? The greatest entertainer of all time? You all have THAT gig? That’s fantastic!” Patrick gushed. “So, you all work with him everyday? You get to see him and speak with him?”
“Well, yeah. That’s the job. It’s like any other job,” explained one of the dancers.
“Yeah, except it’s not. He’s fantastic! I learn new things every day. My musicianship has grown by leaps and bounds. He’s a genius!” praised Oriana.
“So, what do you play?”
“Oh, I play the electric guitar.”
“Guitar, huh? Well, I bet you’re good with your fingers…among other things,” flirted Patrick.
Everyone in the audience erupted in applause.
Oriana looked over at MJ; he appeared mesmerized by the dancer. ‘Wait a minute…what was her name again? Pia? Yes, that’s it. Pia!’ Oriana thought to herself. She sure could move. Moves like that would make for a very interesting time in the sack. Something about a very limber woman made even the most staid men lose their minds.
“I love it!” shouted MJ to Lenny onstage. “I love everything about it. The bed is perfect! It’s grand enough to be seen from the audience, yet you all managed to maintain the look and feel of a real bed.”
“Wait ‘til you see some of our ‘special features.’ Those won’t be unveiled until tomorrow. Tonight we just wanted you to get a chance to look at it and to see the dancer up there. We wanted to give you a feel for what the finished number will be like. It’s very seductive, very hot,” replied Lenny.
Oriana thought she saw MJ lick his lips and swallow hard before he answered, “yes, very hot indeed.” With that, he rose to his feet and strode out to the middle of the room. “Everyone gather around. I would like to end the evening with a moment of thanks:
We would like to give thanks as we make our way through these next few months of rehearsal. Please give us the strength to put forth our best efforts for our fans and to spread the word of L.O.V.E., hope, and unity throughout the world. Let the people of the Earth stand as one and realize we all are brothers. Please watch over our family here. I love you all. Amen.”
Everyone squeezed the hands of the person next to them and a number of the dancers and musicians hugged one another before breaking apart to leave. The two female dancers and the one female singer, Judy approached her as she was bending over to grab her guitar.
“Hey, you wanna go catch a bite to eat with us?” asked wild haired Judy. She was young and beautiful, and a heluva singer. She and Oriana had eaten lunch together a few times in the past few weeks. “We’re all gonna go out to Trader Sue’s and maybe have a few drinks.”
“Yeah sure. I’m ready. Let’s go.” They all headed out the door to the popular dive bar up the street. Sue’s could always be counted on for a good time and a free drink or two. The girls liked to go there because Sue’s was open until after hours. They often didn’t get out of rehearsals until after 1 or 2 in the morning. They spent the four block walk chatting animatedly about the day’s rehearsal. The conversation continued when they found adjoining seats at the bar.
Sue’s wasn’t what you would call a hoity toity eatery, but what it lacked in pedigree, it more than made up for in personality. The décor was a mixture of old island colonial and 50’s diner/greasy spoon. The food was fabulous and the drinks were cheap and strong. There was always a song playing in the jukebox and always a guy or two willing to give a lady a dance. One such guy took it upon himself to send a round of drinks to the four of them as they were waiting for their appetizers. Instead of the usual supercheap Michelob guys usually “sprung” for, he sent over appletinis. The bartender didn’t even know what they were, so he had to explain how to mix them up before they were sent. That lesson cost him an extra $10.
When the bartender finally brought over the prissy little drinks, he made sure to point out the man, just in case he wanted to buy another round for the group. Oriana looked him over; he was cute! About 6 feet tall with tawny brown skin, close cropped brown curly hair, and green eyes. He raised his glass at the group to signal he was the one treating them. Oriana hadn’t had a lover in almost 3 months now. The attention made her blush and she looked away in embarrassment. When she looked back towards the man, he was making his way to the bar.
“This seat taken?” the handsome stranger asked looking directly into Oriana’s eyes.
“No, not anymore,” she answered in her Aussie twang.
“Hi, I’m Patrick. I was just admiring you beautiful ladies from across the room. I thought you might need company. If not then, I might need some myself, especially from someone as beautiful as you.” The last sentence was spoken with him beaming at Oriana. He had very white teeth. “What brings you to Sue’s?” he inquired now looking at the rest of the group.
“We work down the street,” said one of the dancers.
“We’re musicians—and dancers!” interjected Judy, remembering to include the dancers in her answer.
“Oh really? What gig are you all working?” The four of the looked at one another; Oriana shrugged indicating she thought it would be alright to reveal their main attraction.
“MJ,” she said quietly.
“Whoa! Wait a minute! THE MJ? The King of Pop? The greatest entertainer of all time? You all have THAT gig? That’s fantastic!” Patrick gushed. “So, you all work with him everyday? You get to see him and speak with him?”
“Well, yeah. That’s the job. It’s like any other job,” explained one of the dancers.
“Yeah, except it’s not. He’s fantastic! I learn new things every day. My musicianship has grown by leaps and bounds. He’s a genius!” praised Oriana.
“So, what do you play?”
“Oh, I play the electric guitar.”
“Guitar, huh? Well, I bet you’re good with your fingers…among other things,” flirted Patrick.
“Well, I suppose so,” said Oriana modestly.
“Well, Miss _____?”
“Oriana.”
“Miss Oriana, I have always wanted to learn to play the electric guitar. I know it’s kind of late, but would you be up for a private lesson? I promise to be a quick study. Scout’s honor!” He said the latter part with two fingers pressed up against his right temple.
“Well, I’m very flattered _____”
“Patrick,” he interjected.
“I’m very flattered, Patrick, but I’m bushed. Perhaps another time?"
“Sure, here’s my card. Give me a call anytime…day or night,” he said with a wink. “Ladies?” he said addressing her companions. With that, he rose from his barstool and made his way back to his booth towards the rear of the restaurant.
The other girls quickly went back to discussing the bed for the new number. Oriana absently tried to focus on the conversation, but all she could think about was having MJ on the bed and what she would do to him. The cinnamon and vanilla on the dessert of the patron at the next table reminded her of his scent. The straw in her milkshake led her mind to wonder about how much suction he would prefer during ministrations. She couldn’t get him off her mind.
“Girl, you are a million miles away!” chided Judy.
“Yeah, I guess I’m just tired. It was a long day.”
“I’ll say! It’s a wonder I can still talk. Be worked us so hard going over that song over and over. At least your fingers don’t go numb!”
“No, but they do cramp up sometimes.”
“Really? Man! I had no idea! That’s terrible.”
“Well, I think I’m gonna head on home and try to go over some new riff before I turn in.”
“Okay, we’ll see you in the morning.”
Oriana walked the 10 blocks to her flat in a complete fog thinking about MJ. The way he had stood so close to her today really excited her. As she climbed the four flights of stairs to her apartment, she imagined they were the steps to the bed. She put the key in the lock, went inside, and undressed to hop in the shower.
‘I’ve got to get a grip on myself,’ she thought. ‘I still have to work with this man everyday and this is just a silly little school girl crush!’
She angled her face under the warm water allowing it to stream down over her blonde hair. She soaped up her facecloth and gently washed away the tension of the day before lathering her hair. One thing Oriana loved about this bathroom was the hand held showerhead. It made hair washing so much easier. She rinsed the lather from her hair then focused the spray on her shoulders and arms. As she moved form one underarm to the other, the spray accidently lighted upon one of her nipples, sending electric chills down her spine. She buckled backwards a little bit, but then realized she enjoyed the attention to her breasts in small doses. She directed the spray over them in circular motions, before moving southward to rinse off her belly. The water streamed down her triangular delta; she moved the sprayer down one leg, then the other before bringing it back up to rinse off her vagina. When the spray touched her clitoris, she saw stars.
She was suddenly unable to repress her thoughts of MJ any longer. She imagined it was his long fingers caressing her clit in long stroking motions. She moved the showerhead back and forth rapidly simulating a flicking motion. Her breaths grew ragged as her knees grew further apart. Her left hand stole its way back up to pinch her right nipple as her head lolled back on her neck and she began to pant. She recalled MJ’s breath, hot upon her neck as he attempted to demonstrate the proper way to hold the guitar to get the audience’s attention for the solo. She remembered the lunge of his legs as his cock dangled carelessly down his leg. Down his leg! What a cock like that could do to her!
She took the shower head and dialed it to pulsing spray, then directed it to her dripping center. She pumped it back and forth, the water moving her glistening lips in and out forcefully. She imagined it was MJ’s dick making love to her, eliciting these sighs and cries from her deepest recesses. Her hands were trembling now as she climbed higher to her peak. She remembered his fingers, his long elegant fingers. Oriana imagined those fingers pinching her small hard nipples instead of her own calloused ones. She imagined him slipping one, then two of those fingers inside her heated center and pumping them in and out as he took his thumb and rubbed her clit in lazy circles. Her knees buckled as fireworks exploded behind her tightly shut eyelids. Her legs became jelly as a series of loud moans chased one another out of her lips. She convulsed again and again, cumming harder than she had in all her months of abstinence. All because of MJ. He did this to her.
When her heart rate began to slow, she took the showerhead and rinsed off her womanhood again, before shutting off the hot water and stepping out. She toweled herself off, rubbing the cotton material against her sensitive nipples, causing a new wave of convulsions. Oriana rubbed herself with perfumed lotion, then climbed into her high thread count sheets naked as the day she was born. As her hand crept down past her belly again, she exhaled deeply with a smile as she once again imagined the giant bed they had seen that day and the look of wonderment on MJ’s face as he watched the dancer writhe on top of it.
“Miss Oriana, I have always wanted to learn to play the electric guitar. I know it’s kind of late, but would you be up for a private lesson? I promise to be a quick study. Scout’s honor!” He said the latter part with two fingers pressed up against his right temple.
“Well, I’m very flattered _____”
“Patrick,” he interjected.
“I’m very flattered, Patrick, but I’m bushed. Perhaps another time?"
“Sure, here’s my card. Give me a call anytime…day or night,” he said with a wink. “Ladies?” he said addressing her companions. With that, he rose from his barstool and made his way back to his booth towards the rear of the restaurant.
The other girls quickly went back to discussing the bed for the new number. Oriana absently tried to focus on the conversation, but all she could think about was having MJ on the bed and what she would do to him. The cinnamon and vanilla on the dessert of the patron at the next table reminded her of his scent. The straw in her milkshake led her mind to wonder about how much suction he would prefer during ministrations. She couldn’t get him off her mind.
“Girl, you are a million miles away!” chided Judy.
“Yeah, I guess I’m just tired. It was a long day.”
“I’ll say! It’s a wonder I can still talk. Be worked us so hard going over that song over and over. At least your fingers don’t go numb!”
“No, but they do cramp up sometimes.”
“Really? Man! I had no idea! That’s terrible.”
“Well, I think I’m gonna head on home and try to go over some new riff before I turn in.”
“Okay, we’ll see you in the morning.”
Oriana walked the 10 blocks to her flat in a complete fog thinking about MJ. The way he had stood so close to her today really excited her. As she climbed the four flights of stairs to her apartment, she imagined they were the steps to the bed. She put the key in the lock, went inside, and undressed to hop in the shower.
‘I’ve got to get a grip on myself,’ she thought. ‘I still have to work with this man everyday and this is just a silly little school girl crush!’
She angled her face under the warm water allowing it to stream down over her blonde hair. She soaped up her facecloth and gently washed away the tension of the day before lathering her hair. One thing Oriana loved about this bathroom was the hand held showerhead. It made hair washing so much easier. She rinsed the lather from her hair then focused the spray on her shoulders and arms. As she moved form one underarm to the other, the spray accidently lighted upon one of her nipples, sending electric chills down her spine. She buckled backwards a little bit, but then realized she enjoyed the attention to her breasts in small doses. She directed the spray over them in circular motions, before moving southward to rinse off her belly. The water streamed down her triangular delta; she moved the sprayer down one leg, then the other before bringing it back up to rinse off her vagina. When the spray touched her clitoris, she saw stars.
She was suddenly unable to repress her thoughts of MJ any longer. She imagined it was his long fingers caressing her clit in long stroking motions. She moved the showerhead back and forth rapidly simulating a flicking motion. Her breaths grew ragged as her knees grew further apart. Her left hand stole its way back up to pinch her right nipple as her head lolled back on her neck and she began to pant. She recalled MJ’s breath, hot upon her neck as he attempted to demonstrate the proper way to hold the guitar to get the audience’s attention for the solo. She remembered the lunge of his legs as his cock dangled carelessly down his leg. Down his leg! What a cock like that could do to her!
She took the shower head and dialed it to pulsing spray, then directed it to her dripping center. She pumped it back and forth, the water moving her glistening lips in and out forcefully. She imagined it was MJ’s dick making love to her, eliciting these sighs and cries from her deepest recesses. Her hands were trembling now as she climbed higher to her peak. She remembered his fingers, his long elegant fingers. Oriana imagined those fingers pinching her small hard nipples instead of her own calloused ones. She imagined him slipping one, then two of those fingers inside her heated center and pumping them in and out as he took his thumb and rubbed her clit in lazy circles. Her knees buckled as fireworks exploded behind her tightly shut eyelids. Her legs became jelly as a series of loud moans chased one another out of her lips. She convulsed again and again, cumming harder than she had in all her months of abstinence. All because of MJ. He did this to her.
When her heart rate began to slow, she took the showerhead and rinsed off her womanhood again, before shutting off the hot water and stepping out. She toweled herself off, rubbing the cotton material against her sensitive nipples, causing a new wave of convulsions. Oriana rubbed herself with perfumed lotion, then climbed into her high thread count sheets naked as the day she was born. As her hand crept down past her belly again, she exhaled deeply with a smile as she once again imagined the giant bed they had seen that day and the look of wonderment on MJ’s face as he watched the dancer writhe on top of it.
Chapter 3
Oriana felt refreshed after a night of imagining MJ’s hands on her body playing her like a Stradivarius. After he released the tension in her strings, she slept better than she had slept in months. She woke up with a smile on her face; that smile was only dampened by the fact that the night before had been a dream, a wonderful fantasy and that MJ had not actually been in her bed next to her.
She dressed with care hoping to catch his eye again today. To that end, she chose black high-heeled wedge boots and a silver sequined miniskirt. Oriana usually wore pants and any old shirt, but today she wanted to look like a woman. She had seen how he looked at that dancer Pia as she slunk all over the bed like some sort of panther and he had caught her eying Erika’s ass as well. She couldn’t blame him for that one. The way Erika sashayed around in her little pencil skirts, she couldn’t help but attract attention to her major assets; Oriana intended to show off a few assets of her own today.
Oriana tended to dress a tad masculine because electric guitar was mainly a man’s realm. In order to be taken seriously, she put off the “tough” vibe with her wardrobe. Of course, that image was immediately shattered the moment she opened her mouth and her cute little girl Aussie voice came out. People added that to her adorable little blonde ponytail and stopped taking her seriously—until she started to play. She started to dress casually rather than cutesy or sexy in order to skip over those steps. Sometimes it took a man to remind her she had a hot body underneath all those clothes. Oriana had a healthy bust line, rounded hips, and a healthy backside as well. As she recalled, the silver miniskirt swayed rather alluringly as she ran to and fro playing her riffs. Yes, it would do rather nicely today.
Oriana tended to dress a tad masculine because electric guitar was mainly a man’s realm. In order to be taken seriously, she put off the “tough” vibe with her wardrobe. Of course, that image was immediately shattered the moment she opened her mouth and her cute little girl Aussie voice came out. People added that to her adorable little blonde ponytail and stopped taking her seriously—until she started to play. She started to dress casually rather than cutesy or sexy in order to skip over those steps. Sometimes it took a man to remind her she had a hot body underneath all those clothes. Oriana had a healthy bust line, rounded hips, and a healthy backside as well. As she recalled, the silver miniskirt swayed rather alluringly as she ran to and fro playing her riffs. Yes, it would do rather nicely today.
Not only did MJ influence her mood and what she wore that morning, she even felt his influence in what she ate. Instead of the usual nothing, or sugary high from an energy drink and bagel or donut, she found herself eyeing the fruit and smoothies from the vendor on the way to the rehearsal center. She could actually feel her insides thanking her as she jogged up to the backstage entrance with ten minutes to spare. The cast and crew reported early, as usual, to continue rehearsing the numbers. The other guys were already there. Everyone was off in their own corner doing their own individual warm up routine. Oriana unpacked her guitar, plugged into the amp, and perched one buttock up on the edge as she ran through her scales. Her wedge heel kept time as it thumped lightly against the amp. She loved these boots. They allowed her to look feminine while still giving her the support she needed to run around the stage without slipping, falling, or twisting her ankle. She could be girlie while still looking badass.
“Alright everybody! Places! Let’s run through the number. One…two…one, two, three, four!” Be counted them off and the bass section came in with the percussion on the slow winding start. Unfortunately, the pitch of the keyboard bass was a little off, so Be stopped them midway through to allow for adjustments. Oriana used the time to have a casual look around to see if she could spot MJ. He didn’t seem to be here. She did see the singers off in a well-lit corner of the auditorium away from the stage. She couldn’t see their faces clearly, but Judy’s wild hair and funky taste in clothing were unmistakable. None of the dancers seemed to be here either. She wondered where they were. ‘Where was MJ? He was coming today, wasn’t he?’ she almost panicked at the thought of him not showing.
“That’s you. You missed your cue sweetheart. Care to join us?” asked Be.
“Huh?...oh, right. Sorry!” apologized Oriana. She was beet red with embarrassment. They had fixed the pitch problems and restarted the song while she was daydreaming.
“Let’s take it again from the top so Little Miss Buttercup can join us.” She further reddened at him calling attention to the fact she was the only female musician. It was inescapable!
At a little after 10am the dancers came in and occupied the left side of the stage. They seemed to be working on another routine that had nothing to do with the song the musicians were rehearsing. During a break, Oriana made her way to the catering room. The caterer’s assistant Suzie was just finishing setting out the fruit trays and lining up the Fijian water.
“Hiya! How’s everything going today?” quipped Suzie as she smiled and fussed over the table. The caterer’s assistant stood at a mere five feet tall, but could fill the room with her radiant personality.
“Oh, it’s going well thanks! Everything looks so good! How do you all manage to find such fresh fruit?” chirped Oriana.
Suzie put her hands on her hips and smirked, “Well, we have our ways. It mostly involves me getting up before dawn to meet the vendors to get the best stuff. You all deserve the very best and so does MJ!”
“Well, that he does, that he does. Have you seen him today?” inquired Oriana as she brushed a lock of hair from her bangs out of her eyes.
“Me? No, but sometimes he comes in kind of late if he’s been up late the night before. I’m sure he’ll be here. I heard you all are rehearsing a new number. Heard it’s gonna be kind of hot—both literally and figuratively! Jan put in an order for extra canisters of water to supplement whatever the pyrotechnics guys have. You know, just in case,” shared Suzie as she brushed a crumb off the table and collected a few stray grapes and berries.
“Yeah, it looks like it’s gonna be a real doozy.”
“Hey, I wouldn’t worry about MJ. He’ll be here eventually. He doesn’t really need the rehearsal. The rehearsals are more for you all, the dancers, singers, and musicians. He knows this stuff better than the back of his hand.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” sighed Oriana as she twisted the blue cap off her rectangular bottle.
“Still, I know it would go a lot easier if he were here, right? It’s always nice to have something pretty to look at and he is one pretty man! I mean that as a compliment. I can’t take my eyes off him sometimes!” Suzie burst into giggles then skipped out of the room to bring more trays. As she left, she called over her shoulder, “eat as much as you can sweetheart. There won’t be any lunch today. The truck is stuck on another assignment. I keep telling them they need more than one truck if they are going to take these big-name gigs. Eat up before those big guys come and mow through everything like a herd of goats.”
Oriana took her advice and nibbled on a few pieces of fruit and a couple sandwich squares before returning to rehearsals. The rest of the morning flew by as she concentrated on getting the feel just right for the song. She had to be mysterious without her sound disappearing behind the bass line. It was a lot harder than it sounded and Be kept making her do her parts over and over again. She was getting tired and a bit frustrated when a commotion caught her attention.
“That’s you. You missed your cue sweetheart. Care to join us?” asked Be.
“Huh?...oh, right. Sorry!” apologized Oriana. She was beet red with embarrassment. They had fixed the pitch problems and restarted the song while she was daydreaming.
“Let’s take it again from the top so Little Miss Buttercup can join us.” She further reddened at him calling attention to the fact she was the only female musician. It was inescapable!
At a little after 10am the dancers came in and occupied the left side of the stage. They seemed to be working on another routine that had nothing to do with the song the musicians were rehearsing. During a break, Oriana made her way to the catering room. The caterer’s assistant Suzie was just finishing setting out the fruit trays and lining up the Fijian water.
“Hiya! How’s everything going today?” quipped Suzie as she smiled and fussed over the table. The caterer’s assistant stood at a mere five feet tall, but could fill the room with her radiant personality.
“Oh, it’s going well thanks! Everything looks so good! How do you all manage to find such fresh fruit?” chirped Oriana.
Suzie put her hands on her hips and smirked, “Well, we have our ways. It mostly involves me getting up before dawn to meet the vendors to get the best stuff. You all deserve the very best and so does MJ!”
“Well, that he does, that he does. Have you seen him today?” inquired Oriana as she brushed a lock of hair from her bangs out of her eyes.
“Me? No, but sometimes he comes in kind of late if he’s been up late the night before. I’m sure he’ll be here. I heard you all are rehearsing a new number. Heard it’s gonna be kind of hot—both literally and figuratively! Jan put in an order for extra canisters of water to supplement whatever the pyrotechnics guys have. You know, just in case,” shared Suzie as she brushed a crumb off the table and collected a few stray grapes and berries.
“Yeah, it looks like it’s gonna be a real doozy.”
“Hey, I wouldn’t worry about MJ. He’ll be here eventually. He doesn’t really need the rehearsal. The rehearsals are more for you all, the dancers, singers, and musicians. He knows this stuff better than the back of his hand.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” sighed Oriana as she twisted the blue cap off her rectangular bottle.
“Still, I know it would go a lot easier if he were here, right? It’s always nice to have something pretty to look at and he is one pretty man! I mean that as a compliment. I can’t take my eyes off him sometimes!” Suzie burst into giggles then skipped out of the room to bring more trays. As she left, she called over her shoulder, “eat as much as you can sweetheart. There won’t be any lunch today. The truck is stuck on another assignment. I keep telling them they need more than one truck if they are going to take these big-name gigs. Eat up before those big guys come and mow through everything like a herd of goats.”
Oriana took her advice and nibbled on a few pieces of fruit and a couple sandwich squares before returning to rehearsals. The rest of the morning flew by as she concentrated on getting the feel just right for the song. She had to be mysterious without her sound disappearing behind the bass line. It was a lot harder than it sounded and Be kept making her do her parts over and over again. She was getting tired and a bit frustrated when a commotion caught her attention.
Once again, MJ’s intentions of coming in quietly to observe the work of his support staff and crew were thwarted. No matter what he did, someone always managed to spot him and sound the alarm. People dropped whatever they were doing to focus on him and his entrance. What had caught Oriana’s attention was one of the young male dancers galloping across the stage into the musician’s area to alert Be. This one was named Darren, if she wasn’t mistaken. He was a tall, young guy from Brazil. His golden skin and sheen of sweat accentuated his firm, but proportional musculature. He reminded her of one of her exes, an Aborigine named Bryan who had rocked her world two years ago. Normally Oriana would have paid the young dancer and his body a whole lot more attention, but MJ was here. She only had eyes for the master. All other men were amateurs and inexperienced boys compared to him.
“Good morning MJ!” shouted out Lenny above the din. MJ clasped his hands in front of his body and gave a slight bow in Lenny’s direction. “Do you want to hear what we’ve been rehearsing?”
“No, just carry on. I want to hear everything in its organic state. Just pretend I’m not here,” answered MJ.
“Alright then, everyone back to work. Vamanos!”
The musicians ran through the song several more times, with Oriana trying as hard as she could to achieve the effect she had been working on for the past four hours. Try as she did, she was completely distracted by the knowledge he was watching her up on the stage. By this time, MJ had taken a seat in the audience. He crossed his legs and occasionally nodded along with the music. The fingers of his left hand tapped out the beat on the armrest of his chair as his right foot bobbed up and down with the bass line. Sometimes he would get excited and uncross his legs, bracing himself as if to stand. Once or twice, he did jump up, only to settle back down just as suddenly.
The last time through, Be insisted they move about the stage in the blocking they had rehearsed prior to MJ’s entrance. That meant Oriana had go back and forth downstage several times. Now, her choice of the micro miniskirt didn’t seem like such a good idea. The sequined garment swayed back and forth catching the light from the spots and scattering it in a million directions like the shattered glass from a disco ball. A couple of times she came in a bit late with her footwork and ended up having to jog to make her mark. As she did so, her breasts bobbed up and down in her tight little slate grey top. She thought she saw him break a smile once when she had a particularly vigorous run, but she couldn’t be sure from that distance.
“Okay, we’re gonna break. Go sit down in the audience for a bit,” instructed Be to the musicians.
As they made their way to the seats in the auditorium, once again, the crew began to wheel in the mammoth iron bed. Oriana was again taken with its sheer size and the intricacy of the iron work. The canopy and crimson sheets took her breath away. This time she could clearly see straps hanging from various parts of the headboard, posts, and arches. There even appeared to be handcuffs and foot restraints on the giant headboard. She wondered where those would come in.
“No, just carry on. I want to hear everything in its organic state. Just pretend I’m not here,” answered MJ.
“Alright then, everyone back to work. Vamanos!”
The musicians ran through the song several more times, with Oriana trying as hard as she could to achieve the effect she had been working on for the past four hours. Try as she did, she was completely distracted by the knowledge he was watching her up on the stage. By this time, MJ had taken a seat in the audience. He crossed his legs and occasionally nodded along with the music. The fingers of his left hand tapped out the beat on the armrest of his chair as his right foot bobbed up and down with the bass line. Sometimes he would get excited and uncross his legs, bracing himself as if to stand. Once or twice, he did jump up, only to settle back down just as suddenly.
The last time through, Be insisted they move about the stage in the blocking they had rehearsed prior to MJ’s entrance. That meant Oriana had go back and forth downstage several times. Now, her choice of the micro miniskirt didn’t seem like such a good idea. The sequined garment swayed back and forth catching the light from the spots and scattering it in a million directions like the shattered glass from a disco ball. A couple of times she came in a bit late with her footwork and ended up having to jog to make her mark. As she did so, her breasts bobbed up and down in her tight little slate grey top. She thought she saw him break a smile once when she had a particularly vigorous run, but she couldn’t be sure from that distance.
“Okay, we’re gonna break. Go sit down in the audience for a bit,” instructed Be to the musicians.
As they made their way to the seats in the auditorium, once again, the crew began to wheel in the mammoth iron bed. Oriana was again taken with its sheer size and the intricacy of the iron work. The canopy and crimson sheets took her breath away. This time she could clearly see straps hanging from various parts of the headboard, posts, and arches. There even appeared to be handcuffs and foot restraints on the giant headboard. She wondered where those would come in.
She didn’t have to wait long before Lenny began describing the set up. MJ and Oriana would start off the song in front of a giant white Japanese rice paper screen spanning the length of the stage. The bass line would build among smoke and spotlights, then the shadow of a dancer would appear behind the screen. The audience would witness the silhouette of the dancer twisting, turning, and tumbling around the stage with her form magnified by the effects of the lights on the paper screen. Oriana would stay slightly off to the side playing her part as MJ began to sing the song. As the song progressed, the screen would open up to reveal the giant iron bed. The dancer would lure MJ to the bed while Oriana continued to play. The music would build as the dancer crawled all over the iron canopy seducing MJ with her every move. At the crescendo, she would lock him in the handcuffs on the headboard and dance all around him twirling, spinning, and crawling as the flames engulfed both them and the bed.
“It would be a lot easier to show you, MJ.” Once everyone was seated, Lenny checked with MJ to see if he was ready. On his signal, Lenny cued the playback of some of the musicians’ earlier rehearsal. Smoke filled the auditorium as the lights went down. Several dancers who had been stretching and warming up in the wings now appeared within sparkling teardrop-shaped iron cages twisting and stretching their bodies as if gravity and the ravishes of age did not exist; the birdcages were slowly lowered from the ceiling until they stopped about 25 feet above the audience.
The rice paper screen was illuminated as the figure of a dancer became apparent up on stage. She moved sensuously like a Bond Girl in the opening montage doing illusions, backbends and jetés. The screen opened to reveal the bed, and the dancer climbed up onto the high platform effortlessly. She almost seemed like a snake the way her body moved fluidly amongst the iron bars. She twisted and turned, and looped her body all over the platform and footboard before climbing on top of the canopy and threading her wrist through some sort of loop hanging from the center of the arches. At the climax of the song, she began to spin faster and faster with her legs outstretched before drawing them closer to increase the speed of her revolutions.
“And at that point the bed will go up en fuego,” said Lenny clapping his hands.
“Hee hee, I love it Lenny! So the dancer is going to be up there on the bed the whole time once the screen opens?”
“Yes, MJ. She’s going to be________________”
“Sounds good. I can’t wait to do this part!” He said while chuckling and biting his lower lip.
“So, if you and the dancer are up there the whole time, MJ, then where is Oriana supposed to be?” asked Be, MJ’s music director.
“She’s gonna be in the bed with us, playing,” answered MJ.
“All three of you in the bed?” asked Be, eyebrows raised.
“Hey!...I can handle it!” said MJ with a sly grin. He burst out laughing and jogged away to the steps on the side of the stage to talk with Lenny some more before lunch.
“Hmp, I bet he can!” joked Jelani, one of the percussionists.
“You know it!” added Tommy Fermata, the other guitarist on the tour.
“Ain’t that right baby!” seconded Mo’ Betta, another musician in the band. “MJ can handle those women. The question is can they handle him?”
“Hell, I would love to handle that pretty little thang you playin’ with,” Jelani pointed at Tommy.
“Aw man! I can’t even think of her that way. I gotta keep things professional. You know men always manage to mess up the relationship, especially if it’s with someone you work with. 50 shows is a long time to play with someone who’s mad at you for just being a man. Besides, I have a wife at home, so I ain’t goin’ there,” quipped Tommy.
“Suit yourself then. That’s just more for us, right? That leaves one-on-one, and I like those odds,” snorted Mo.
“Come on man, where are we gonna go for lunch? Lenny says the caterer didn’t come in with lunch today. Something about the truck being stuck down in Venice for some movie shoot with Denzel Washington. He wants us all back here in two-and-a-half hours.”
“I don’t know man. I feel like some Korean.”
“Yeah, she is kinda cute too, isn’t she?”
“Man, you ain’t shit! That girl is half Japanese, not Korean.”
“Yeah, but she is cute, am I wrong? Doesn’t she make you wanna grab a hold of all that hair...”
The men walked off the stage and out the back entrance into the bright Los Angeles sunshine.
The rice paper screen was illuminated as the figure of a dancer became apparent up on stage. She moved sensuously like a Bond Girl in the opening montage doing illusions, backbends and jetés. The screen opened to reveal the bed, and the dancer climbed up onto the high platform effortlessly. She almost seemed like a snake the way her body moved fluidly amongst the iron bars. She twisted and turned, and looped her body all over the platform and footboard before climbing on top of the canopy and threading her wrist through some sort of loop hanging from the center of the arches. At the climax of the song, she began to spin faster and faster with her legs outstretched before drawing them closer to increase the speed of her revolutions.
“And at that point the bed will go up en fuego,” said Lenny clapping his hands.
“Hee hee, I love it Lenny! So the dancer is going to be up there on the bed the whole time once the screen opens?”
“Yes, MJ. She’s going to be________________”
“Sounds good. I can’t wait to do this part!” He said while chuckling and biting his lower lip.
“So, if you and the dancer are up there the whole time, MJ, then where is Oriana supposed to be?” asked Be, MJ’s music director.
“She’s gonna be in the bed with us, playing,” answered MJ.
“All three of you in the bed?” asked Be, eyebrows raised.
“Hey!...I can handle it!” said MJ with a sly grin. He burst out laughing and jogged away to the steps on the side of the stage to talk with Lenny some more before lunch.
“Hmp, I bet he can!” joked Jelani, one of the percussionists.
“You know it!” added Tommy Fermata, the other guitarist on the tour.
“Ain’t that right baby!” seconded Mo’ Betta, another musician in the band. “MJ can handle those women. The question is can they handle him?”
“Hell, I would love to handle that pretty little thang you playin’ with,” Jelani pointed at Tommy.
“Aw man! I can’t even think of her that way. I gotta keep things professional. You know men always manage to mess up the relationship, especially if it’s with someone you work with. 50 shows is a long time to play with someone who’s mad at you for just being a man. Besides, I have a wife at home, so I ain’t goin’ there,” quipped Tommy.
“Suit yourself then. That’s just more for us, right? That leaves one-on-one, and I like those odds,” snorted Mo.
“Come on man, where are we gonna go for lunch? Lenny says the caterer didn’t come in with lunch today. Something about the truck being stuck down in Venice for some movie shoot with Denzel Washington. He wants us all back here in two-and-a-half hours.”
“I don’t know man. I feel like some Korean.”
“Yeah, she is kinda cute too, isn’t she?”
“Man, you ain’t shit! That girl is half Japanese, not Korean.”
“Yeah, but she is cute, am I wrong? Doesn’t she make you wanna grab a hold of all that hair...”
The men walked off the stage and out the back entrance into the bright Los Angeles sunshine.
Oriana leaned against the amp sipping her foreign water. Her body was angled at such a way that she could spy on MJ without seeming too obvious. MJ was talking very animatedly with Lenny making hand gestures and head nods every few minutes. Eventually, they finished and Lenny made his way off to another part of the lot to discuss some technical details with the lighting crew and to meet with the engineers building the set for the opener.
Finding himself all alone, MJ grabbed a water and started thinking out loud. “I wonder how big this thing is and how much room I’ll really have to move around.” He crept closer to the iron monster and decided to take a closer look. His long legs made easy work of the steps of the ladder in the side. Once he got to the platform itself, he marveled at how soft yet supportive the mattress was; 'they must have used some of that memory foam stuff,' he mused. He bounced around on it a bit doing a soft shoe routine before jumping up and down as if he were on a trampoline. “Wee, hee hee!” he giggled to himself.
He walked over to the footboard and began running his hands over the swoops and flourishes of the scrollwork. He walked along the sides looking up at the arches of the canopy. He tried to jump up to reach the looped strap hanging from the highest point of the arches; it was the same loop he had seen the dancer spinning from earlier. ‘Boy, she was incredible!’ he mused. ‘What a sexy little thing.’ It was amazing what she could do with her body on this bed. .
Finding himself all alone, MJ grabbed a water and started thinking out loud. “I wonder how big this thing is and how much room I’ll really have to move around.” He crept closer to the iron monster and decided to take a closer look. His long legs made easy work of the steps of the ladder in the side. Once he got to the platform itself, he marveled at how soft yet supportive the mattress was; 'they must have used some of that memory foam stuff,' he mused. He bounced around on it a bit doing a soft shoe routine before jumping up and down as if he were on a trampoline. “Wee, hee hee!” he giggled to himself.
He walked over to the footboard and began running his hands over the swoops and flourishes of the scrollwork. He walked along the sides looking up at the arches of the canopy. He tried to jump up to reach the looped strap hanging from the highest point of the arches; it was the same loop he had seen the dancer spinning from earlier. ‘Boy, she was incredible!’ he mused. ‘What a sexy little thing.’ It was amazing what she could do with her body on this bed. .
Gingerly, he stepped back up to the headboard, reaching out to trace its waves. Before his hand could make contact, he was startled by the sound of the stage lights being turned off and the whir of the Japanese screen closing. The combination of those two actions made the stage area very dark. He imagined the dancer must have used the bright backlights to see what she was doing; they were the ones that created the shadow the audience saw
He reached out again and ran his hand along the smooth, cold metal. It was hypnotizing to follow the swell and fall of the curves. He yawned. His right hand traced the board all the way up to the custom wrist restraints built in at two levels of the headboard. One set was high up on the back, high enough that he would need to extend his arms out diagonally and above his head to reach them. That set had an accompanying set of leather straps for a person’s ankles, he remembered from the demonstration he had seen. There was a second set of cuffs at a much lower height; these could be accessed by sitting down with his back against the headboard.
MJ plopped down onto his bottom and scooted his back up against the metal frame. He made certain the cap was screwed tightly onto his water bottle before setting it down onto the bright crimson silk sheets. If he remembered correctly, Lenny had said something about a quick release for the cuffs. Knowing this, he slipped his right wrist into the cuff and heard the ratcheting sound as he tightened it. He sat back with a sigh and thought back to the rehearsal last night and this morning.
‘This piece is going to be incredible!’ he said stifling a yawn. He knew he should have gone to bed sooner; he had been up until almost four in the morning writing the arrangement for a new song. When his music came to him, he had to listen. He had to obey his muse or risk silencing her forever. He closed his eyes and began to imagine the petite dancer. Pia…her name was Pia. In his mind, he saw her deftly climb onto the bed and begin her hypnotic dance. His body relaxed and he exhaled deeply.
“Here, let me help you with that,” a voice startled him. He heard footsteps approach the bed and smelled the sweetest perfume: jasmine and frangipani with the slightest hint of musk.
His eyes opened to see the silhouette of a female form climbing onto the platform of the bed. Her scent intensified with her approach. “I can do that. I can take care of you.”
MJ plopped down onto his bottom and scooted his back up against the metal frame. He made certain the cap was screwed tightly onto his water bottle before setting it down onto the bright crimson silk sheets. If he remembered correctly, Lenny had said something about a quick release for the cuffs. Knowing this, he slipped his right wrist into the cuff and heard the ratcheting sound as he tightened it. He sat back with a sigh and thought back to the rehearsal last night and this morning.
‘This piece is going to be incredible!’ he said stifling a yawn. He knew he should have gone to bed sooner; he had been up until almost four in the morning writing the arrangement for a new song. When his music came to him, he had to listen. He had to obey his muse or risk silencing her forever. He closed his eyes and began to imagine the petite dancer. Pia…her name was Pia. In his mind, he saw her deftly climb onto the bed and begin her hypnotic dance. His body relaxed and he exhaled deeply.
“Here, let me help you with that,” a voice startled him. He heard footsteps approach the bed and smelled the sweetest perfume: jasmine and frangipani with the slightest hint of musk.
His eyes opened to see the silhouette of a female form climbing onto the platform of the bed. Her scent intensified with her approach. “I can do that. I can take care of you.”
He smiled at the figure in the dark. “Thanks.” He could feel her body settle in a kneeling position in between his legs. She caressed up the length of his pants before reaching across him to his left side. She lifted his wrist up and secured in the cuff with a ‘click.’ MJ’s eyes widened in surprise before a knowing smile spread across his face.
Chapter 4
MJ leaned his shoulders back against the iron rails as a smirk settled upon his lips. The figure rocked back upon her heels then straddled his legs, lowering herself onto his lap. She cupped his chin, rubbing his stubble lightly before untying the length of silk from around her waist; she deftly tied it around his head, shrouding his eyes in luxury. He still had not seen her clearly enough to identify who it was who was straddling him and now rubbing herself lightly back and forth across his swelling manhood.
Once the blindfold was in place, the woman stood. She checked each of the handcuffs to make certain they were secure then caressed each arm back down towards his chest. She began to unbutton his shirt slowly, taking the time to admire his smooth hairless chest and tiny nipples. She remembered those nipples looked like chocolate drops from some of his photo shoots in the 80’s; now they resembled pink marzipan she longed to taste.
With the last button undone, she pulled his shirt open as far as it would go with his arms outstretched towards the cuffs, then began to run her hands over his porcelain skin. She teased his nipples with light concentric circles and felt them harden under her touch. She stretched out her tongue and touched it to the tip of his left nipple. Her tongue traced the edge of his areola, then drew the nubbin into her mouth, rolled it around and released it. She repeated the ministrations to his right nipple with the addition of a light nip between her front teeth; that last action elicited a sharp intake of breath from MJ. He squirmed on the bed, pulling lightly at his cuffs. She pulled back slightly and blew across his chest, creating a cooling sensation across the hot wetness. MJ’s pelvis bucked up slightly causing her to rock forward across his straining bulge. A current shot from her clit to deep in her womb, and she resisted the urge to moan. She was in control here, and wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Not yet.
MJ could feel her straddling him, putting the sweetest pressure on his lap. He relished the touch of her caresses down his arms and chest and gasped when she nipped at his nipples. Her scent of hot house flowers lingered in the air, but he was still uncertain of whom this mysterious visitor might be. He felt her weight shift slightly as she leaned off to the left then returned to her previous position, focused right on top of his cock. He heard a popping sound and smelled a different, slightly nuttier odor.
As he tried to place the new smell, he felt her fingers running through his hair. His head relaxed back and he sighed. She massaged his temples with what had to be oil and pinched the shell of his ears then moved down to squeeze his earlobes. She leaned in to place the pointed tip of her tongue in his right ear then whispered, “I’ve wanted you for so long; I’m going to have my way with you today. You’re all mine now.”
MJ squirmed again, shifting in an attempt to provide some relief for his tumescent cock straining at his zipper. She applied light pressure to the back of his neck with her fingertips and ran them up and down, then around tracing his clavicle. She leaned in for a kiss, drawing in his bottom lip and sucking it lightly. The massage continued with his shoulders, releasing the tension he had been carrying from a wired late night and a demanding morning. He jerked slightly when she touched his sensitive side ribs, but again moaned quietly when her hands chased his trim waistline to meet in the back on the swell of his magnificently formed buttocks. She squeezed them while grinding her vagina into his crotch; MJ’s moans got louder.
As his pleasure climbed higher to the summit, she mercifully released him and slowed her gyrations. Her weight lifted as she rocked back onto her haunches. MJ heard the metallic zing of the zipper on his trousers and felt a cool rush of air onto the hot skin of his penis the pain of his confinement eased. She cooed quietly when the zipper reached the bottom then pulled the flaps to the side to give him more space in which to expand. She turned backwards, now facing his feet, and began tugging on his shoes. First one, then the other was removed and flung somewhere in the dark. He heard the echo of their landing and wondered how he would find them in the darkness. She pulled off his socks, then turned back to face him.
MJ could feel her lowering the waistband of his trousers, so he lifted himself to assist her in their removal. She slid his pants down his legs, and threw them somewhere towards the foot of the bed. He was now naked save his shirt. Once again, he heard the glub glub of the bottle of oil, then felt her hands encircle his left foot. She kneaded him from his heel up to his arch and the ball of his foot, then paid special attention to each toe, circling them and flexing them backwards. She did the same to his right foot, then moved up to his slender calves. She bent his legs at the knee, then worked his hamstrings and thighs, careful to avoid his sensitive inner thigh skin.
Just when he thought he couldn’t take anymore, he felt her lightly scrape her nails against the hypersensitive flesh. She followed her scrapes with a soothing bath of oil, then snaked her hand down to cradle his taut testicles. “Mmmm,” he heard her say. Nothing more. She began to roll his testicles around in her left hand while the right hand absently stroked his shaft up and down. After several trips from root to tip, she wrapped both her hands around his full length and tightened her grip. As she reached the head of his penis, she allowed her left hand to run up and over the sensitive glans causing MJ to sit forward sharply and cry out “Oh!” His pleasure ratcheted higher as she allowed her thumbs to pull back his foreskin further exposing his glans and took the tip into her mouth. Her tongue probed the hole in his head and was rewarded with a flow of salty precum. She applied a light suction, while continuing to run her hands up and down his penis, then popped him out of her mouth. She blew lightly across the length of his shaft then slowed her movements to a stop. Through his fog, MJ registered the cessation of pleasure and exhaled in protest.
She crouched over him and began rubbing her body along the length of his. He could feel her better now: she had muscular legs, a trim waist, and a generous bust. She used the latter to encircle his cheeks as she breathed down upon him. “You like that, don’t you?” she asked in a breathy voice that was impossible to place. She reached her arms across her torso in a criss cross motion, and drew her shirt up over her head; she was braless underneath; her large breasts sitting full and proud. She then reached down to her waist and slid her bottoms down off her legs. She returned to rub her breasts over his cheeks and face before inserting her left nipple into his mouth.
He suckled with the hunger of a newborn baby, the instinct to feed driving him to seek her softness. She pulled back slightly to increase the tension; he rewarded her by nipping at her lightly the way she had done to his own earlier. She reached up to pinch her own right nipple, rolling it back and forth between her own fingers to match the movements of his tongue and teeth on its twin. Her left hand stole downward to dip into her dripping wetness, taking her flowing juices and rubbing them over his testicles for lubrication. They rocked like that for a few minutes, each seeking to increase the pleasure of the other, before she once again broke contact. This time she stood, again straddling his legs. She urged him to scoot forward slightly then hooked her legs on either side of his shoulders and settled her cunt down in front of his face. She rubbed her slit across his lips, spreading her nectar over his cheeks, nose, and chin.
His temporary blindness heightened his other senses. He inhaled her scent, prompting him to lick his lips as well. Seeing this, she cupped his chin and guided him towards her center. MJ lapped at her sweet juices, running his tongue up and down the length of her slit, before probing deeper between her inner lips. He stiffened his invader and began thrusting towards her center, his nose tickling her sensitive pearl. He was rewarded with a tide of nectar on his tongue which he scooped back up to her clit, drowning it in wetness which he returned to suckle.
He drew in the point of her pleasure and ran his rough tongue across it over and over, finally eliciting an “Oh, oh, yessss!” from her lips. Her body convulsed and shook as she gripped the curls on his head. She squeezed her eyes shut so tightly she saw stars and her breath caught in her chest. Her thighs had long ago cut off MJ’s sense of hearing just as the silk blindfold cut off his sense of sight. All that was left was her sweetness on his tongue, the heady scent of her sex, and the slipperiness in his mouth. As her pleasure came to its peak, her own sense of hearing temporarily left her; slowly, she drifted down, a feeling of lightheadedness enveloped her. She thought she heard music. She felt so disembodied, she thought she might be in heaven. He drew her in once again, and she shot back up to her peak, then another and another. This time, he let her come down, and she slowly released his head from the grip of her hands and powerful thighs.
Slowly, she sank down on to the bed in front of him, her breathing still ragged. His own breaths came in gulps as she struggled to replace the oxygen of which he had been deprived while he happily breathed in her essence. She caressed his wrists to soothe the sting of the red marks and murmured apologies and thanks at the same time. Now she was certain of it, she heard music, and it was getting louder. She didn’t recognize the song, but she certainly could identify the instrumentation. For his part, MJ was still enveloped in the darkness of the blindfold, but he wouldn’t be in the dark for long.
MJ leaned his shoulders back against the iron rails as a smirk settled upon his lips. The figure rocked back upon her heels then straddled his legs, lowering herself onto his lap. She cupped his chin, rubbing his stubble lightly before untying the length of silk from around her waist; she deftly tied it around his head, shrouding his eyes in luxury. He still had not seen her clearly enough to identify who it was who was straddling him and now rubbing herself lightly back and forth across his swelling manhood.
Once the blindfold was in place, the woman stood. She checked each of the handcuffs to make certain they were secure then caressed each arm back down towards his chest. She began to unbutton his shirt slowly, taking the time to admire his smooth hairless chest and tiny nipples. She remembered those nipples looked like chocolate drops from some of his photo shoots in the 80’s; now they resembled pink marzipan she longed to taste.
With the last button undone, she pulled his shirt open as far as it would go with his arms outstretched towards the cuffs, then began to run her hands over his porcelain skin. She teased his nipples with light concentric circles and felt them harden under her touch. She stretched out her tongue and touched it to the tip of his left nipple. Her tongue traced the edge of his areola, then drew the nubbin into her mouth, rolled it around and released it. She repeated the ministrations to his right nipple with the addition of a light nip between her front teeth; that last action elicited a sharp intake of breath from MJ. He squirmed on the bed, pulling lightly at his cuffs. She pulled back slightly and blew across his chest, creating a cooling sensation across the hot wetness. MJ’s pelvis bucked up slightly causing her to rock forward across his straining bulge. A current shot from her clit to deep in her womb, and she resisted the urge to moan. She was in control here, and wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Not yet.
MJ could feel her straddling him, putting the sweetest pressure on his lap. He relished the touch of her caresses down his arms and chest and gasped when she nipped at his nipples. Her scent of hot house flowers lingered in the air, but he was still uncertain of whom this mysterious visitor might be. He felt her weight shift slightly as she leaned off to the left then returned to her previous position, focused right on top of his cock. He heard a popping sound and smelled a different, slightly nuttier odor.
As he tried to place the new smell, he felt her fingers running through his hair. His head relaxed back and he sighed. She massaged his temples with what had to be oil and pinched the shell of his ears then moved down to squeeze his earlobes. She leaned in to place the pointed tip of her tongue in his right ear then whispered, “I’ve wanted you for so long; I’m going to have my way with you today. You’re all mine now.”
MJ squirmed again, shifting in an attempt to provide some relief for his tumescent cock straining at his zipper. She applied light pressure to the back of his neck with her fingertips and ran them up and down, then around tracing his clavicle. She leaned in for a kiss, drawing in his bottom lip and sucking it lightly. The massage continued with his shoulders, releasing the tension he had been carrying from a wired late night and a demanding morning. He jerked slightly when she touched his sensitive side ribs, but again moaned quietly when her hands chased his trim waistline to meet in the back on the swell of his magnificently formed buttocks. She squeezed them while grinding her vagina into his crotch; MJ’s moans got louder.
As his pleasure climbed higher to the summit, she mercifully released him and slowed her gyrations. Her weight lifted as she rocked back onto her haunches. MJ heard the metallic zing of the zipper on his trousers and felt a cool rush of air onto the hot skin of his penis the pain of his confinement eased. She cooed quietly when the zipper reached the bottom then pulled the flaps to the side to give him more space in which to expand. She turned backwards, now facing his feet, and began tugging on his shoes. First one, then the other was removed and flung somewhere in the dark. He heard the echo of their landing and wondered how he would find them in the darkness. She pulled off his socks, then turned back to face him.
MJ could feel her lowering the waistband of his trousers, so he lifted himself to assist her in their removal. She slid his pants down his legs, and threw them somewhere towards the foot of the bed. He was now naked save his shirt. Once again, he heard the glub glub of the bottle of oil, then felt her hands encircle his left foot. She kneaded him from his heel up to his arch and the ball of his foot, then paid special attention to each toe, circling them and flexing them backwards. She did the same to his right foot, then moved up to his slender calves. She bent his legs at the knee, then worked his hamstrings and thighs, careful to avoid his sensitive inner thigh skin.
Just when he thought he couldn’t take anymore, he felt her lightly scrape her nails against the hypersensitive flesh. She followed her scrapes with a soothing bath of oil, then snaked her hand down to cradle his taut testicles. “Mmmm,” he heard her say. Nothing more. She began to roll his testicles around in her left hand while the right hand absently stroked his shaft up and down. After several trips from root to tip, she wrapped both her hands around his full length and tightened her grip. As she reached the head of his penis, she allowed her left hand to run up and over the sensitive glans causing MJ to sit forward sharply and cry out “Oh!” His pleasure ratcheted higher as she allowed her thumbs to pull back his foreskin further exposing his glans and took the tip into her mouth. Her tongue probed the hole in his head and was rewarded with a flow of salty precum. She applied a light suction, while continuing to run her hands up and down his penis, then popped him out of her mouth. She blew lightly across the length of his shaft then slowed her movements to a stop. Through his fog, MJ registered the cessation of pleasure and exhaled in protest.
She crouched over him and began rubbing her body along the length of his. He could feel her better now: she had muscular legs, a trim waist, and a generous bust. She used the latter to encircle his cheeks as she breathed down upon him. “You like that, don’t you?” she asked in a breathy voice that was impossible to place. She reached her arms across her torso in a criss cross motion, and drew her shirt up over her head; she was braless underneath; her large breasts sitting full and proud. She then reached down to her waist and slid her bottoms down off her legs. She returned to rub her breasts over his cheeks and face before inserting her left nipple into his mouth.
He suckled with the hunger of a newborn baby, the instinct to feed driving him to seek her softness. She pulled back slightly to increase the tension; he rewarded her by nipping at her lightly the way she had done to his own earlier. She reached up to pinch her own right nipple, rolling it back and forth between her own fingers to match the movements of his tongue and teeth on its twin. Her left hand stole downward to dip into her dripping wetness, taking her flowing juices and rubbing them over his testicles for lubrication. They rocked like that for a few minutes, each seeking to increase the pleasure of the other, before she once again broke contact. This time she stood, again straddling his legs. She urged him to scoot forward slightly then hooked her legs on either side of his shoulders and settled her cunt down in front of his face. She rubbed her slit across his lips, spreading her nectar over his cheeks, nose, and chin.
His temporary blindness heightened his other senses. He inhaled her scent, prompting him to lick his lips as well. Seeing this, she cupped his chin and guided him towards her center. MJ lapped at her sweet juices, running his tongue up and down the length of her slit, before probing deeper between her inner lips. He stiffened his invader and began thrusting towards her center, his nose tickling her sensitive pearl. He was rewarded with a tide of nectar on his tongue which he scooped back up to her clit, drowning it in wetness which he returned to suckle.
He drew in the point of her pleasure and ran his rough tongue across it over and over, finally eliciting an “Oh, oh, yessss!” from her lips. Her body convulsed and shook as she gripped the curls on his head. She squeezed her eyes shut so tightly she saw stars and her breath caught in her chest. Her thighs had long ago cut off MJ’s sense of hearing just as the silk blindfold cut off his sense of sight. All that was left was her sweetness on his tongue, the heady scent of her sex, and the slipperiness in his mouth. As her pleasure came to its peak, her own sense of hearing temporarily left her; slowly, she drifted down, a feeling of lightheadedness enveloped her. She thought she heard music. She felt so disembodied, she thought she might be in heaven. He drew her in once again, and she shot back up to her peak, then another and another. This time, he let her come down, and she slowly released his head from the grip of her hands and powerful thighs.
Slowly, she sank down on to the bed in front of him, her breathing still ragged. His own breaths came in gulps as she struggled to replace the oxygen of which he had been deprived while he happily breathed in her essence. She caressed his wrists to soothe the sting of the red marks and murmured apologies and thanks at the same time. Now she was certain of it, she heard music, and it was getting louder. She didn’t recognize the song, but she certainly could identify the instrumentation. For his part, MJ was still enveloped in the darkness of the blindfold, but he wouldn’t be in the dark for long.
Chapter 5
The woman bent forward once again, took in the head of his penis, and began to apply gentle suction. MJ longed to take his hands and place them on the top of her head, willing her to go lower, wanting her to take in his length. She gave him a particularly effective swipe of the tongue causing his hips to rise up off the bed cushions. He moaned loudly, momentarily drowning out their soundtrack.
She could hear the guitar music clearly now. It almost seemed to be coming from a few feet away. The languid melody set the pace for her ministrations to his cock. MJ moaned the lyrics in his own improvised arrangement. She tasted the salt of his escaped fluids as they leaked out of the head of his penis. She withdrew the head to move lower and began lapping at the down on his balls. His brow furrowed in a pained expression and his lips parted slightly, one single line of saliva connecting from top to bottom. His tongue shot out to wet his bottom lip subconsciously mimicking her previous actions on his manhood.
She teased at the valley of his scrotum, licking upwards and down while humming along with the music in her head. It was in her head, wasn’t it? Together they made a symphony, the woman with her humming against his balls, MJ moaning the lyrics, and the accompaniment seemingly played by God herself, for this whole session seemed to be a gift from the heavens.
She teased at the valley of his scrotum, licking upwards and down while humming along with the music in her head. It was in her head, wasn’t it? Together they made a symphony, the woman with her humming against his balls, MJ moaning the lyrics, and the accompaniment seemingly played by God herself, for this whole session seemed to be a gift from the heavens.
His hips gyrated slowly, once more seeking the heat of her mouth; she obliged, engulfing him to the hilt. She began a gentle suction, bobbing her head up and down with regularity. A sigh escaped his lips. She sighed in response then inhaled deeply through her nose. His scent was stronger here at the seat of his manhood; the delicious vanilla aromas made her hungry for more. She began to gobble him now, her head bobbing faster, the suction of her mouth increased. She could feel the veins in his cock pulsate in time with the almost-imperceptible pumping of his hips. His balls tightened when she gave them a courtesy lap on the downstroke; once they were wet, she began to massage them in counterpoint to the vertical movements of her lips and tongue.
The woman felt her own juices seeping once again down her inner thigh, her own excitement mirroring MJ’s as her movements took him higher towards his peak. His moaning grew higher in pitch as her humming increased in force. He was now slamming his hips into her lips causing them to redden and swell and making them the twins of her nether lips. They climbed the mountain of pleasure together, she having taken two of her own fingers and buried them deeply in her own wetness in time to the crescendo of the soundtrack to their love.
“Oh…oh….oooooooohhhh yesssssss girl! That’s it, oooohhh!” the last syllable was a drawn-out moan of pleasure.
They hit their high note together, stars exploding behind MJ’s eyelids, the blindfold now unnecessary as his eyes were squeezed tight in pleasure. The woman’s lips gasped for breath around his pumping steel as his cock spurted hot seed to the back of her throat three…four…five times. Her own pleasure maintained a high note then began the torturous descent along with the notes in her head—no in her ears. As the fog in her brain began to clear, she noted the ragged breathing she heard followed three distinct patterns. She felt a slight shift on the bed, but MJ hadn’t moved. Neither had she; they were no longer alone.
Chapter 6
Oriana had decided to use the break to work on her parts. She wanted to get her solos and features just right in an effort to finally impress MJ—or at least not to disappoint him. She had been so worked up with anxiety over pleasing MJ, Be, and Lenny her appetite was nil. She decided to grab a water bottle and her guitar and find an out-of-the-way spot to rehearse by herself. She noticed the technicians had already extinguished most of the stage lights. It was probably an effort to save a bit of money in what was already an over-the-top production. From what she had heard, BEG, the Böse Entertainment Group, poured money into the project; it wasn’t like they weren’t going to get it back a thousandfold. This is MJ we’re talking about! So far her checks had been on time—well except for once or twice, but Jan had explained that was the fault of the payroll company they used, not BEG.
She carefully climbed the backstage steps and picked her way between the sound and lighting equipment. Just as she was about to hoist herself onto an amp, she thought she heard a faint noise coming from her right in the darkness. It sounded like crying, but who could be crying up here in the dark? And why? Oriana knew she should probably mind her own business, but she was a compassionate person. Whomever it was, she wanted to see if she could comfort them.
She quietly followed the whimpering sounds further into the darkness of the stage. She was a bit apprehensive about venturing out from the wings because she remembered them bringing in the bed, but not its actual final placement; she had been more preoccupied reminiscing about the way that dancer had worked the iron poles and swung from the canopy. She had been so flexible, feminine yet powerful. Oriana imagined she must have been something between the sheets.
The midstage area was not completely dark. Oriana could just make out the outlines of the massive bed and on it were the shadows of not one, but two figures. As she approached like a cat on the pads of its feet, she realized it wasn’t whimpering she heard, but moaning. There was MJ blindfolded and handcuffed to the headboard while a woman stood above him, her sex on his lips; he was feasting as if famished, as if he hadn’t had a meal in days and her flowing ambrosia was the only thing that could sustain him. He was so beautiful with his soft curls flowing around his shoulder, no doubt like the nectar flowing from his partner.
Oriana watched the coupling, utterly fascinated with the scene before her. MJ lapped and slurped at the woman’s pouting slit, the smacking sounds reverberating throughout the stage area. The woman’s legs were hooked over his shoulders providing him open access to her honey pot. Her head was thrown back in ecstasy as her hands gripped his curls. Oriana quietly covered a third of the distance between them then stopped to watch some more.
“Oh…oh….oooooooohhhh yesssssss girl! That’s it, oooohhh!” the last syllable was a drawn-out moan of pleasure.
They hit their high note together, stars exploding behind MJ’s eyelids, the blindfold now unnecessary as his eyes were squeezed tight in pleasure. The woman’s lips gasped for breath around his pumping steel as his cock spurted hot seed to the back of her throat three…four…five times. Her own pleasure maintained a high note then began the torturous descent along with the notes in her head—no in her ears. As the fog in her brain began to clear, she noted the ragged breathing she heard followed three distinct patterns. She felt a slight shift on the bed, but MJ hadn’t moved. Neither had she; they were no longer alone.
Chapter 6
Oriana had decided to use the break to work on her parts. She wanted to get her solos and features just right in an effort to finally impress MJ—or at least not to disappoint him. She had been so worked up with anxiety over pleasing MJ, Be, and Lenny her appetite was nil. She decided to grab a water bottle and her guitar and find an out-of-the-way spot to rehearse by herself. She noticed the technicians had already extinguished most of the stage lights. It was probably an effort to save a bit of money in what was already an over-the-top production. From what she had heard, BEG, the Böse Entertainment Group, poured money into the project; it wasn’t like they weren’t going to get it back a thousandfold. This is MJ we’re talking about! So far her checks had been on time—well except for once or twice, but Jan had explained that was the fault of the payroll company they used, not BEG.
She carefully climbed the backstage steps and picked her way between the sound and lighting equipment. Just as she was about to hoist herself onto an amp, she thought she heard a faint noise coming from her right in the darkness. It sounded like crying, but who could be crying up here in the dark? And why? Oriana knew she should probably mind her own business, but she was a compassionate person. Whomever it was, she wanted to see if she could comfort them.
She quietly followed the whimpering sounds further into the darkness of the stage. She was a bit apprehensive about venturing out from the wings because she remembered them bringing in the bed, but not its actual final placement; she had been more preoccupied reminiscing about the way that dancer had worked the iron poles and swung from the canopy. She had been so flexible, feminine yet powerful. Oriana imagined she must have been something between the sheets.
The midstage area was not completely dark. Oriana could just make out the outlines of the massive bed and on it were the shadows of not one, but two figures. As she approached like a cat on the pads of its feet, she realized it wasn’t whimpering she heard, but moaning. There was MJ blindfolded and handcuffed to the headboard while a woman stood above him, her sex on his lips; he was feasting as if famished, as if he hadn’t had a meal in days and her flowing ambrosia was the only thing that could sustain him. He was so beautiful with his soft curls flowing around his shoulder, no doubt like the nectar flowing from his partner.
Oriana watched the coupling, utterly fascinated with the scene before her. MJ lapped and slurped at the woman’s pouting slit, the smacking sounds reverberating throughout the stage area. The woman’s legs were hooked over his shoulders providing him open access to her honey pot. Her head was thrown back in ecstasy as her hands gripped his curls. Oriana quietly covered a third of the distance between them then stopped to watch some more.
She could feel herself becoming aroused at what she was witnessing. She longed to be that woman, the one so intimately attached to MJ. How many nights had she dreamed of something just like this? A chance to become one with the master. Oriana swallowed hard and, and without thinking, brought up her hands to pinch her right nipple through her blouse. Her eyes closed momentarily and she swayed slightly in her boots. She reopened her eyes to see the woman crouching down in front of MJ, freeing his engorged member from the confines of his pants.
Well, she might not be the one up there on the bed with him, but she knew how to connect with MJ. She reached down by her right hip, gripped her guitar and brought it forward. She took a moment to caress the metal strings, feeling each groove with her heightened sensitivity. Her fingers had a mind of their own as they began to play. Though she was hardly aware of what she was doing, through her music, Oriana became a willing partner in the threesome. Her chords matched the mood of the moment and wound sonorously through the space between them joining their show in perfect accompaniment.
MJ was now undulating under the ministrations of his mysterious partner, the wail of the guitar crying out in unison with his own ecstasy. The woman was now humming along to the sensual melody the sounds of her fingers mixing with her juices to add even more high notes. Oriana’s own panties were now soaked through, and her womb gave a flutter in counterpoint with her playing. She felt herself propelled forward on sheer will of desire, her legs climbing the steps to the bed effortlessly. She stood at the foot of the enormous platform watching them, an unseen voyeur but a full participant to their passion play.
MJ was now undulating under the ministrations of his mysterious partner, the wail of the guitar crying out in unison with his own ecstasy. The woman was now humming along to the sensual melody the sounds of her fingers mixing with her juices to add even more high notes. Oriana’s own panties were now soaked through, and her womb gave a flutter in counterpoint with her playing. She felt herself propelled forward on sheer will of desire, her legs climbing the steps to the bed effortlessly. She stood at the foot of the enormous platform watching them, an unseen voyeur but a full participant to their passion play.
The two lovers climbed their peak together. The intense pleasure was etched all over MJ’s face, his face forming lines around the blindfold. The woman lay panting for a few minutes before registering a shift in the weight on the bed near her. She looked up to see the adorable little Aussie standing over them, playing on her guitar. The music wasn’t in her head after all!
Pia smiled and stood up caressing Oriana’s left cheek lovingly before reaching out for her guitar. She lifted the strap up and over Oriana’s head and gently set the instrument down on the mattress several feet away from them. Oriana had stood frozen to the spot, staring at MJ recovering from his vigorous session. Amazingly, his throbbing manhood had not gone soft and sat resting on his left thigh, his leg bent slightly at the knee. It was even larger than she had imagined! She swallowed hard, imagining tasting him.
Her fantasy was interrupted as Pia came up behind her and began caressing her arms up and down. Her body pressed dangerously close as she reached around in front of Oriana, grasped the lapels of her leather jacket, and slid it off her arms. Next Pia unbuttoned the already half-undone blouse and removed it from Oriana’s perky breasts; she didn’t have large abundant cleavage, but her breasts stood at attention even without a bra and her lovers had never complained. On the contrary—they often marveled at her beautifully fluted breasts. Pia then spun Oriana around and began to undo her silver miniskirt. She slid it slowly across Oriana’s rounded hips, pausing to run her hands back up her thighs. Once the skirt was discarded, Pia gently lifted Oriana’s leg and tugged off the boot; it landed with a thud somewhere in the darkness followed by its mate.
Pia smiled once again at Oriana before turning her around to face MJ. She walked her forward a few steps then gestured towards the object of their desire. Oriana looked back at her with hesitation; Pia simply nodded then stepped back and sank to the silk cushions with her legs crossed and tucked beneath her. Oriana reached out a hand to finger his curls. She lifted them, releasing more of his intoxicating aroma. Her fingers found their way to the blindfold and traced its outline along his cheeks then dropped down to his sharp jawline. He hadn’t yet developed his evening stubble and his skin was as smooth as marble. Her fingers rose to his magnificent lips and lingered, alighting back and forth like the wings of a butterfly withdrawing nectar from a willing blossom.
Her fantasy was interrupted as Pia came up behind her and began caressing her arms up and down. Her body pressed dangerously close as she reached around in front of Oriana, grasped the lapels of her leather jacket, and slid it off her arms. Next Pia unbuttoned the already half-undone blouse and removed it from Oriana’s perky breasts; she didn’t have large abundant cleavage, but her breasts stood at attention even without a bra and her lovers had never complained. On the contrary—they often marveled at her beautifully fluted breasts. Pia then spun Oriana around and began to undo her silver miniskirt. She slid it slowly across Oriana’s rounded hips, pausing to run her hands back up her thighs. Once the skirt was discarded, Pia gently lifted Oriana’s leg and tugged off the boot; it landed with a thud somewhere in the darkness followed by its mate.
Pia smiled once again at Oriana before turning her around to face MJ. She walked her forward a few steps then gestured towards the object of their desire. Oriana looked back at her with hesitation; Pia simply nodded then stepped back and sank to the silk cushions with her legs crossed and tucked beneath her. Oriana reached out a hand to finger his curls. She lifted them, releasing more of his intoxicating aroma. Her fingers found their way to the blindfold and traced its outline along his cheeks then dropped down to his sharp jawline. He hadn’t yet developed his evening stubble and his skin was as smooth as marble. Her fingers rose to his magnificent lips and lingered, alighting back and forth like the wings of a butterfly withdrawing nectar from a willing blossom.
His tongue snaked out to touch molecules with the skin of her index finger; he tasted ever so slightly at first, then, liking what he sampled, he drew the finger in to suckle it.
Oriana sank onto his lap, her legs straddling his, her sex nestled against his awakening beast.
As she settled onto him, he noticed something different. The woman felt different to him, softer somehow. And her scent had changed from frangipani and lilies to one of buttercream. Sensing a shift in the dynamics of their meeting, he addressed her. “Remove my blindfold. I want to see who I’m tasting now,” he commanded.
Uncertain of what to do, Oriana looked back helplessly at Pia.
Pia approached silently and gingerly untied the silk that encircled his head like a crown.
MJ blinked, then focused his eyes upon the two temptresses. Momentarily shocked to see who his lovers were, he stared at them for a few seconds before a smile played upon his lips. “Uncuff me. We’re just getting started, and I’ll need both my hands to handle the two of you.”
As she settled onto him, he noticed something different. The woman felt different to him, softer somehow. And her scent had changed from frangipani and lilies to one of buttercream. Sensing a shift in the dynamics of their meeting, he addressed her. “Remove my blindfold. I want to see who I’m tasting now,” he commanded.
Uncertain of what to do, Oriana looked back helplessly at Pia.
Pia approached silently and gingerly untied the silk that encircled his head like a crown.
MJ blinked, then focused his eyes upon the two temptresses. Momentarily shocked to see who his lovers were, he stared at them for a few seconds before a smile played upon his lips. “Uncuff me. We’re just getting started, and I’ll need both my hands to handle the two of you.”
Chapter 7
“With pleasure,” smiled Pia as she reached up to undo first one, then the other handcuff. She sank down to the level of the other two on the bed and joined Oriana in rubbing MJ’s wrists. She gingerly massaged him with the pads of her fingers then replaced them with her tongue. The tip of her tongue traced the folds in his wrist and dipped into the grooves between his tendons. She then drew his long, elegant fingers into her mouth, wetting them in the moist cavern. She rolled her tongue over his digits a few times, then applied suction as she removed them; Pia guided his fingers down to Oriana’s nipple and pinched it a few times with her own before MJ took over. Oriana moaned as the tweaking took on a rhythm; he began to keep time with his hands on her other nipple eliciting from her a slight rocking movement on his lap.
Pia retreated slightly, leaning back on her arms a few feet from the two. Oriana’s eyes were now closed as she slowly moved back and forth on MJ’s groin. He had replaced the fingers on one nipple with his lips and teeth and was lightly nipping at her wrinkled skin. He drew the nubbin in between his teeth and pulled slightly while taking up a rapid flicking with his fingers on its twin. Oriana shuddered as she reached her peak, grinding down on his hardness, spreading her juices all over him, the hot sticky sweetness flooding down on his turgid tool, promising of pleasures to come. Her rocking slowed as she came back to her senses.
MJ took the fingers of his right hand, the one that had been in Pia’s mouth, and ran them down Oriana’s arm. She was so soft, like the fuzz on a silk shirt. He caressed her arm and across her bony hip to her belly. He traced around her belly button, taking a moment to insert his finger into the cavern before reaching the downy softness of her mound. He stroked several hairs along her heated triangle, combing out the curls before seeking out her pearl.
MJ took the fingers of his right hand, the one that had been in Pia’s mouth, and ran them down Oriana’s arm. She was so soft, like the fuzz on a silk shirt. He caressed her arm and across her bony hip to her belly. He traced around her belly button, taking a moment to insert his finger into the cavern before reaching the downy softness of her mound. He stroked several hairs along her heated triangle, combing out the curls before seeking out her pearl.
Oriana’s hip rolled towards him seeking to intensify the contact as he rubbed his thumb back and forth over her hidden gem. He set forth drawing it out of hiding then turned his attention to her pouting lips. They were slick from her recent orgasm and eagerly granted him entrance. His fingers slid in without protest, first one finger went as a scout to probe her tight opening. He sank his index finger in up to the third knuckle then began withdrawing it before sliding in again more rapidly. He pumped in and out of Oriana, twisting his wrist to allow the other bent fingers to stimulate her clitoris as he hit bottom. She drew in a sharp breath and her hips jumped back for a moment, before rushing back down to meet his hand. He slipped in a second finger and increased his speed causing her to groan in encouragement.
Pia unconsciously had begun rubbing her own nipples in time to MJ’s attention to Oriana’s own hard pebbles. When he slipped in a second finger, her own hand mimicked his movements plunging two fingers into her throbbing wetness. She watched the two lovers as she leaned back, legs spread, and panting on the silk cushions of the giant bed. Her thirst only increased as she drank in the sexual feast before her eyes, her own pleasure ratcheting higher in tandem with the coupling pair.
“You like that don’t you missy?” breathed MJ into Oriana’s ear. “I bet you didn’t realize I know my way around a fret board, too. I know just the chords to hit to make you sing,” he whispered just before he exhaled hotly onto her neck and nipped the flesh of her earlobe.
Oriana responded by moaning and humping his fingers with increased urgency.
“Sing for me, O…that’s it.”
Her body began to tremble and she emitted a series of small squeals, signaling the arrival of her orgasm.
“That’s it baby.” MJ continued to caress her body as she descended from her peak, then gingerly lay her upon the silk cushions to complete her recovery. He crawled over and collapsed a few feet from her, his sex in repose on his thigh.
“You like that don’t you missy?” breathed MJ into Oriana’s ear. “I bet you didn’t realize I know my way around a fret board, too. I know just the chords to hit to make you sing,” he whispered just before he exhaled hotly onto her neck and nipped the flesh of her earlobe.
Oriana responded by moaning and humping his fingers with increased urgency.
“Sing for me, O…that’s it.”
Her body began to tremble and she emitted a series of small squeals, signaling the arrival of her orgasm.
“That’s it baby.” MJ continued to caress her body as she descended from her peak, then gingerly lay her upon the silk cushions to complete her recovery. He crawled over and collapsed a few feet from her, his sex in repose on his thigh.
He fixed his eyes upon Pia. “I want you to dance for me. Dance like you did yesterday. Dance just for me.”
Pia withdrew her fingers from her honey pot and gave her own nipples a final squeeze before rising from the bed. She strode over to the nearest bedpost and deftly leapt up landing with her legs wrapped around it like a long lost lover. She shimmied up the post until she reached the top of the headboard then stepped out on the iron crossbar with a dip of her hips. She let go of the post and began to step back and forth on top of the iron headboard with the assurance of a gymnast as she danced to rival the best belly dancers in the Middle East. Pia’s hips moved in swirls and loops to mimic the scrollwork on the iron bed as her belly muscles undulated in a hypnotic rhythm.
“Yesssss, just for me,” MJ exhaled transfixed, leaning back with his arms crossed behind his head. “Dance for me, all for me.”
Oriana’s breathing had recovered enough to allow her to open her eyes and observe the seductress; her mouth stood slightly open in astonishment at the dancer’s moves. Her juices continued to trickle out of her love canal and a sheen of sweat covered her heated skin.
Pia reached the opposite bedpost and swung from it in a circular motion before flipping her body upside down and hooking her legs through the canopy crossbars. She hoisted herself up until she was on top of the structure then began slinking across it like a feral cat stalking her prey. When she reached the middle of the X, she did a walkover and landed in a split before rolling over onto her belly, drawing her muscular legs up. She threaded them down through the bars until her body was hanging down right next to the looped straps in the middle. She placed both slender wrists through the middle and allowed her body to hang. Her legs started out straddle before she gave her body a twist at the waist, gaining rotational momentum for a spin. Her hair spread out around her like the dark curtain of night while beads of sweat shone upon her body like stars in the evening sky.
“She’s incredible!” cried Oriana, her hand flying up to her lips in astonishment.
“Yes, she is,” growled MJ, rising from his bed of lust, ready for round three. He walked to the center of the bed just as Pia was slowing her rotations. He reached out to catch her legs as they spread apart in a natural braking motion. “Mmm,” he purred like a panther. “You drive me to distraction,” he whispered. “I want to taste that pretty kitty again,” he murmured before running his tongue up her thigh to capture a rivulet of sweat mixed with her own excitement. The source of the spring beckoned him closer with its fragrance of hot house flowers. He plunged his face in to drink from the well.
“Oh!” she cried out startled by the fervor with which he dove in, she was overcome with ecstasy. His tongue began to rise and fall through the lake of her juices drinking it all in like a dying man at a desert oasis. He hoisted her up slightly to bring her lips closer to his and she used the opportunity to unhook her wrists from the straps above her. Her hands fell to grasp his dark curls, alternately gripping and releasing with the rise and fall of her waves of pleasure.
MJ was now fully supporting her by his grip on her buttocks, his hands sinking into her flesh as she ground herself on his face. After a particularly delicious swipe from his tongue, her bucking almost brought both of them down, so she smoothly leaned back to lower her center of gravity. She gripped his thighs; not missing a beat, he raised her legs so she could hook them over his shoulders leaving her hanging upside down.
He resumed his attentions to her pussy, running his tongue up and down the slit before drawing her clitoris in and out between his lips. The inverted position caused the most incredible sensations as all the blood rushed to her head. When he trapped her clit between his teeth and began to gently nibble, Pia exploded in a cacophony of moans, stars and streaks of light obscuring her vision. Michael didn’t stop until her breathing slowed. He lowered her hands gently to the bed cushions, allowing her to balance on them in a handstand then bring her legs down to stand upright once more. She was so disoriented, she had to lean back on the headboard for support, her chest heaving with the effort of filling her lungs.
MJ sank down to his knees and crawled towards her seemingly transforming into a panther stalking the smaller cat before him. Pia’s eyes were still closed, her arms supporting her on the iron cross bar. Her eyes snapped open when she heard the click. With some effort she focused them onto his face; he wore the most diabolical grin.
“Yesssss, just for me,” MJ exhaled transfixed, leaning back with his arms crossed behind his head. “Dance for me, all for me.”
Oriana’s breathing had recovered enough to allow her to open her eyes and observe the seductress; her mouth stood slightly open in astonishment at the dancer’s moves. Her juices continued to trickle out of her love canal and a sheen of sweat covered her heated skin.
Pia reached the opposite bedpost and swung from it in a circular motion before flipping her body upside down and hooking her legs through the canopy crossbars. She hoisted herself up until she was on top of the structure then began slinking across it like a feral cat stalking her prey. When she reached the middle of the X, she did a walkover and landed in a split before rolling over onto her belly, drawing her muscular legs up. She threaded them down through the bars until her body was hanging down right next to the looped straps in the middle. She placed both slender wrists through the middle and allowed her body to hang. Her legs started out straddle before she gave her body a twist at the waist, gaining rotational momentum for a spin. Her hair spread out around her like the dark curtain of night while beads of sweat shone upon her body like stars in the evening sky.
“She’s incredible!” cried Oriana, her hand flying up to her lips in astonishment.
“Yes, she is,” growled MJ, rising from his bed of lust, ready for round three. He walked to the center of the bed just as Pia was slowing her rotations. He reached out to catch her legs as they spread apart in a natural braking motion. “Mmm,” he purred like a panther. “You drive me to distraction,” he whispered. “I want to taste that pretty kitty again,” he murmured before running his tongue up her thigh to capture a rivulet of sweat mixed with her own excitement. The source of the spring beckoned him closer with its fragrance of hot house flowers. He plunged his face in to drink from the well.
“Oh!” she cried out startled by the fervor with which he dove in, she was overcome with ecstasy. His tongue began to rise and fall through the lake of her juices drinking it all in like a dying man at a desert oasis. He hoisted her up slightly to bring her lips closer to his and she used the opportunity to unhook her wrists from the straps above her. Her hands fell to grasp his dark curls, alternately gripping and releasing with the rise and fall of her waves of pleasure.
MJ was now fully supporting her by his grip on her buttocks, his hands sinking into her flesh as she ground herself on his face. After a particularly delicious swipe from his tongue, her bucking almost brought both of them down, so she smoothly leaned back to lower her center of gravity. She gripped his thighs; not missing a beat, he raised her legs so she could hook them over his shoulders leaving her hanging upside down.
He resumed his attentions to her pussy, running his tongue up and down the slit before drawing her clitoris in and out between his lips. The inverted position caused the most incredible sensations as all the blood rushed to her head. When he trapped her clit between his teeth and began to gently nibble, Pia exploded in a cacophony of moans, stars and streaks of light obscuring her vision. Michael didn’t stop until her breathing slowed. He lowered her hands gently to the bed cushions, allowing her to balance on them in a handstand then bring her legs down to stand upright once more. She was so disoriented, she had to lean back on the headboard for support, her chest heaving with the effort of filling her lungs.
MJ sank down to his knees and crawled towards her seemingly transforming into a panther stalking the smaller cat before him. Pia’s eyes were still closed, her arms supporting her on the iron cross bar. Her eyes snapped open when she heard the click. With some effort she focused them onto his face; he wore the most diabolical grin.
Chapter 8
“You didn’t think I was going to let you get away with cuffing me and teasing me like that did you? I think you need to be punished for flaunting yourself in front of me; everytime I see you bend and twist like that, all I can think about is bending you over—so that’s what I’m going to do,” he said as he dropped his hands from the cuff placed around her ankle. He turned to Oriana; she was still sprawled on the cushions, sex swollen and hair asunder. “Come here,” he ordered.
Oriana’s pulse quickened at hearing his tone. She had seen MJ command the stage, but she had never seen him be quite this assertive. Ever the obedient one, she gathered herself to stand and walked over to him on legs still shaky from her earlier demonstration of his skills. When she got within arm’s reach, he gripped her arm and pulled her closer to him, reaching up to stroke her golden hair out of her face. He bared his teeth and gave a cynical chuckle, “And you, pretty little thing. You’ve been a cocktease, too, prancing around the stage in that little miniskirt, pretending you couldn’t play the parts. I hired you because I knew you could do it.” He trailed his index finger down to the hollow of her neck and began tracing her clavicle. “Do you know how hard it made my cock to stand that close to you in rehearsals? To look down at all those pretty little blouses and watch the rise and fall of your breasts? To smell your hair and watch the perfect pout of those lips as you concentrated on your riffs? You knew exactly what you were doing, too and I’m going to get you for it. My dick is still hard, and I aim to do something about it.”
He turned her around on the last word. “Bend over,” he commanded. He placed his hand between her shoulder blades and urged her downwards over the railing. As she reached a 90 degree angle with her hands hanging downwards, he bent down to retrieve the red silk scarf Pia had used earlier to blindfold him. He quickly tied her wrists to one of the scrolls to maintain her position. “The view is lovely,” he smiled as he admired her ass and swollen lips on display before him. Just as suddenly as he smiled, the smile melted away. He turned cold eyes to Pia, “Prepare her,” he barked.
“Wha-, What?” she stammered.
“You heard me. She’s been a bad girl, almost as naughty as you. I can’t have that kind of temptation distracting me on a daily basis. She needs to be punished. Spank that ass,” he said raising an eyebrow challenging her to disobey.
Pia turned towards Oriana, using her unshackled leg to swivel her body. Oriana jumped at the other woman’s touch, letting out a small squeal; she could only hear what was being said and partially observe MJ from her head down position. Pia attempted to soothe her by running her hands down the curve of her hips and back up over the generous globes. She then rubbed Oriana’s right buttock in clockwise circular motions before withdrawing her hands entirely.
Oriana heard the first smack before she felt it, the other woman’s hand whistling faintly as it cut through the air. The sound reverberated in the darkness of the soundstage.
“That’s it. Spank that ass. Make it all nice and red for me,” rasped MJ. The scene before him had awakened the beast between his legs from its slumber. It arose looking to feed again with only the stroking of his hand to hold it back from attacking.
Again and again Pia brought her cupped hand down on Oriana’s buttocks alternating from cheek to cheek and leaving angry red marks in her wake. The young guitarist moaned and squirmed in vain against her restraint, her ass bobbing up and down like a buoy in the rough summer seas.
“Enough,” he commanded.
Pia soothed the marks, rubbing both her hands around on Oriana’s backside, as MJ approached. She bent to place a single kiss in the small of her back, then stepped back to make way for the maestro.
“Perhaps you’ll be better behaved in the future so we can get some work done,” he admonished, tilting his head from side to side in admiration of Pia’s handiwork. Oriana’s globes were still streaked with bright red and were hot to the touch. He reached down and spread her cheeks open to gaze upon her golden valley before dipping his fingers into the fluids trickling down her thighs. “You loved every minute of it, didn’t you?” he asked rhetorically. He continued rubbing his fingers up and down her opening, pausing only to flick her clit once and dip into the pool, stretching her lips apart before continuing on his back and forth journey. He then rubbed the wetness onto the head of his straining cock in preparation of finally satisfying his own yearning, the skin wrinkling as it glided back and forth over the immovable hardness beneath, the angry red head peeping out from its hood. “Yeah girl, you loved it.” At the final word, he plunged himself into her to the hilt.
Chapter 9
O gasped and stopped breathing altogether for a moment. MJ held still, afraid he had finally hurt the young girl. Her tightness was almost unbearable. He felt as if he were suffocating in her dense wetness, then he felt the slightest movement. A fluttering of her inner walls commenced as her body struggled to adjust to the sudden invader. He gave a shake of his head, sweat flying off his curls, as he fought to maintain control of himself. He began to withdraw his penis slowly pulling out against the massive gravitational pull of her pussy. When the ring just below his glans met her outer lips, he began to advance again, every ridge of every vein in his cock sending jolts of electricity straight to her clit.
O still hadn’t breathed up to this point, but now she began a faint continuous whine that crescendoed with every pump, her hips moving back to meet his thrusts.
He turned her around on the last word. “Bend over,” he commanded. He placed his hand between her shoulder blades and urged her downwards over the railing. As she reached a 90 degree angle with her hands hanging downwards, he bent down to retrieve the red silk scarf Pia had used earlier to blindfold him. He quickly tied her wrists to one of the scrolls to maintain her position. “The view is lovely,” he smiled as he admired her ass and swollen lips on display before him. Just as suddenly as he smiled, the smile melted away. He turned cold eyes to Pia, “Prepare her,” he barked.
“Wha-, What?” she stammered.
“You heard me. She’s been a bad girl, almost as naughty as you. I can’t have that kind of temptation distracting me on a daily basis. She needs to be punished. Spank that ass,” he said raising an eyebrow challenging her to disobey.
Pia turned towards Oriana, using her unshackled leg to swivel her body. Oriana jumped at the other woman’s touch, letting out a small squeal; she could only hear what was being said and partially observe MJ from her head down position. Pia attempted to soothe her by running her hands down the curve of her hips and back up over the generous globes. She then rubbed Oriana’s right buttock in clockwise circular motions before withdrawing her hands entirely.
Oriana heard the first smack before she felt it, the other woman’s hand whistling faintly as it cut through the air. The sound reverberated in the darkness of the soundstage.
“That’s it. Spank that ass. Make it all nice and red for me,” rasped MJ. The scene before him had awakened the beast between his legs from its slumber. It arose looking to feed again with only the stroking of his hand to hold it back from attacking.
Again and again Pia brought her cupped hand down on Oriana’s buttocks alternating from cheek to cheek and leaving angry red marks in her wake. The young guitarist moaned and squirmed in vain against her restraint, her ass bobbing up and down like a buoy in the rough summer seas.
“Enough,” he commanded.
Pia soothed the marks, rubbing both her hands around on Oriana’s backside, as MJ approached. She bent to place a single kiss in the small of her back, then stepped back to make way for the maestro.
“Perhaps you’ll be better behaved in the future so we can get some work done,” he admonished, tilting his head from side to side in admiration of Pia’s handiwork. Oriana’s globes were still streaked with bright red and were hot to the touch. He reached down and spread her cheeks open to gaze upon her golden valley before dipping his fingers into the fluids trickling down her thighs. “You loved every minute of it, didn’t you?” he asked rhetorically. He continued rubbing his fingers up and down her opening, pausing only to flick her clit once and dip into the pool, stretching her lips apart before continuing on his back and forth journey. He then rubbed the wetness onto the head of his straining cock in preparation of finally satisfying his own yearning, the skin wrinkling as it glided back and forth over the immovable hardness beneath, the angry red head peeping out from its hood. “Yeah girl, you loved it.” At the final word, he plunged himself into her to the hilt.
Chapter 9
O gasped and stopped breathing altogether for a moment. MJ held still, afraid he had finally hurt the young girl. Her tightness was almost unbearable. He felt as if he were suffocating in her dense wetness, then he felt the slightest movement. A fluttering of her inner walls commenced as her body struggled to adjust to the sudden invader. He gave a shake of his head, sweat flying off his curls, as he fought to maintain control of himself. He began to withdraw his penis slowly pulling out against the massive gravitational pull of her pussy. When the ring just below his glans met her outer lips, he began to advance again, every ridge of every vein in his cock sending jolts of electricity straight to her clit.
O still hadn’t breathed up to this point, but now she began a faint continuous whine that crescendoed with every pump, her hips moving back to meet his thrusts.
Pia licked her lips at the lust dance before her and grunted, catching MJ’s attention.
Once again, he grinned and echoed her lip licking as he continued to thrust into the young Aussie. He began to long stroke her, almost withdrawing his cock before plunging back in deep to her cervix; the squealing increased in volume only to be broken up by a sob.
That was his cue; he withdrew his penis entirely, smacking her on the ass with his hand. “I think that’s enough for now. Why should you have all the fun, huh?”
O sobbed once again, this time disappointed at being cheated out of her impending orgasm. She lay panting across the bar, mourning the loss of her conquerer.
MJ sidestepped over to Pia holding his glistening member in his hand. He absently stroked himself with his left hand then firmly gripped Pia behind the head with his right. He bent down close to her and placed his hot lips on top of hers, snaking his tongue inside her mouth. She tasted herself on his tongue then he bit down softly on her bottom lip pulling ever so slightly before releasing her. Still gripping her hair, he nuzzled her nose with his whispering, “You just don’t know what you do to me. I don’t like that you have this effect on me.”
She gazed up into his eyes, losing herself in their liquid darkness oblivious to the two fingers that had found their way between her legs. It wasn’t until he stroked her clit between his thumb and index finger that her attention was snatched back into the present and she was once again aware of exactly what they were doing. Her lips parted wordlessly as her eyes fluttered closed, then opened again lazily, her head thrown back hair hanging in wet tendrils.
He withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his lips to lick the nectar off them, then grabbed her free leg and angled it up and out. With a scoop of his hips, he buried himself in her cunt causing her eyes to fly open all the way.
“Oh yeah, baby. Give it to me MJ!” she panted, arms flailing around with wild abandon as he pushed into her repeatedly.
That was his cue; he withdrew his penis entirely, smacking her on the ass with his hand. “I think that’s enough for now. Why should you have all the fun, huh?”
O sobbed once again, this time disappointed at being cheated out of her impending orgasm. She lay panting across the bar, mourning the loss of her conquerer.
MJ sidestepped over to Pia holding his glistening member in his hand. He absently stroked himself with his left hand then firmly gripped Pia behind the head with his right. He bent down close to her and placed his hot lips on top of hers, snaking his tongue inside her mouth. She tasted herself on his tongue then he bit down softly on her bottom lip pulling ever so slightly before releasing her. Still gripping her hair, he nuzzled her nose with his whispering, “You just don’t know what you do to me. I don’t like that you have this effect on me.”
She gazed up into his eyes, losing herself in their liquid darkness oblivious to the two fingers that had found their way between her legs. It wasn’t until he stroked her clit between his thumb and index finger that her attention was snatched back into the present and she was once again aware of exactly what they were doing. Her lips parted wordlessly as her eyes fluttered closed, then opened again lazily, her head thrown back hair hanging in wet tendrils.
He withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his lips to lick the nectar off them, then grabbed her free leg and angled it up and out. With a scoop of his hips, he buried himself in her cunt causing her eyes to fly open all the way.
“Oh yeah, baby. Give it to me MJ!” she panted, arms flailing around with wild abandon as he pushed into her repeatedly.
O craned her neck to see MJ vigorously thrusting into Pia next to her. They were close enough to touch, but with her hands bound, she had to settle for the visual feast and her own satisfied spasms; her juices continued to run down her legs, tickling the sensitive flesh, tempting her to bring herself to completion. She began to rub her thighs together; the friction was just enough to stimulate her clitoris, but not enough to bring her over the edge. It was maddening.
With one arm wrapped around her back and the other holding Pia’s leg up and open, MJ thrust into the dancer with animalistic fury. He unleashed all his pent up frustrations into her, the chase was on to see who would reach their peak first. He leaned her back and bit her breasts, marking his territory. He hoisted her up, the cuffs dragging upwards on the iron bar as her leg rose, bringing her pussy up higher.
She leaned further back still, bringing her body low enough to grip the iron bars below and behind her, bending herself into a backbend, and giving him access to the treasure he sought. Pia keened and panted, “O, Oh, Oooooooooohhhhhhh, yeesssssssssss!” as he thrust into her faster and harder. She began to shake like an antelope caught in its death throes, its soul surrendered to the black panther.
He rode the waves with her, struggling to quell his own peaking ecstasy, for he wasn’t done yet. There was one more task at hand. As Pia’s quivering began to calm, he gently righted her and made sure she was supported before withdrawing his still engorged member. Pia sank gratefully to the bed once again, completely spent and disoriented.
He was hard as steel as he turned back to O; she was still bent at the waist awaiting relief from her position at the precipice of passion. He observed the trickles of her juices down her inner thighs and smirked, “You couldn’t wait, could you?” He rubbed his cock over her buttocks leaving a sticky trail to match those between her legs. “Don’t worry, you’ve suffered enough. I’m going to take care of you, baby.” He moved the hair out of her face, caressed her back between her shoulder blades, and gripped one of her asscheeks. The red marks persisted, the pain long ago turned to pleasure. He kneaded her buttocks spreading them once again for his final journey. In one quick motion, he buried his sword in her sheath, her natural lubrication a welcoming pathway to her moist valley.
O sobbed again, this time in relief that he had returned to her. He wasted no time in beginning his thrusts, his abdominal muscles tightening and roiling with the effort. Her buttocks jiggled and slapped in counterpoint to his efforts, his hand spanking with a syncopated beat. “Come on girl, take it as high as you can,” he cajoled.
Her throat constricted so tightly, her ecstasy began as the tiniest of mouse squeaks deep in her throat and grew steadily bolder as the uncoiling of her pleasure progressed. Her eyes squeezed shut and her inner muscles had the beast in a death grip.
“It’s your time baby. Come on, I’ll be right there with you.” Her cunt throbbed.
She leaned further back still, bringing her body low enough to grip the iron bars below and behind her, bending herself into a backbend, and giving him access to the treasure he sought. Pia keened and panted, “O, Oh, Oooooooooohhhhhhh, yeesssssssssss!” as he thrust into her faster and harder. She began to shake like an antelope caught in its death throes, its soul surrendered to the black panther.
He rode the waves with her, struggling to quell his own peaking ecstasy, for he wasn’t done yet. There was one more task at hand. As Pia’s quivering began to calm, he gently righted her and made sure she was supported before withdrawing his still engorged member. Pia sank gratefully to the bed once again, completely spent and disoriented.
He was hard as steel as he turned back to O; she was still bent at the waist awaiting relief from her position at the precipice of passion. He observed the trickles of her juices down her inner thighs and smirked, “You couldn’t wait, could you?” He rubbed his cock over her buttocks leaving a sticky trail to match those between her legs. “Don’t worry, you’ve suffered enough. I’m going to take care of you, baby.” He moved the hair out of her face, caressed her back between her shoulder blades, and gripped one of her asscheeks. The red marks persisted, the pain long ago turned to pleasure. He kneaded her buttocks spreading them once again for his final journey. In one quick motion, he buried his sword in her sheath, her natural lubrication a welcoming pathway to her moist valley.
O sobbed again, this time in relief that he had returned to her. He wasted no time in beginning his thrusts, his abdominal muscles tightening and roiling with the effort. Her buttocks jiggled and slapped in counterpoint to his efforts, his hand spanking with a syncopated beat. “Come on girl, take it as high as you can,” he cajoled.
Her throat constricted so tightly, her ecstasy began as the tiniest of mouse squeaks deep in her throat and grew steadily bolder as the uncoiling of her pleasure progressed. Her eyes squeezed shut and her inner muscles had the beast in a death grip.
“It’s your time baby. Come on, I’ll be right there with you.” Her cunt throbbed.
With his permission, she reached her high note, “Oh…ah…ohhhhhhhhhhhhh!” she sang out. Her inner walls rippled over his throbbing steel sending him over the edge, his control finally conquered.
“Oh..ah….unh!” he groaned, sweat dripping off his forehead as he convulsed. He released her hips leaving red marks to match the ones on her cheeks. He staggered backwards two steps then steadied himself on her still-waiting ass. “Ooh…ahhh…that was unbelievable,” he said in between gulps of air before sinking to his knees. Pia lay sprawled nearby, nearly unconscious from their efforts. “Let me untie you. You’ve redeemed yourself,” he congratulated as he unbound O. He managed to uncuff Pia’s leg before falling over from exhaustion.
They slept.
Chapter 10
MJ wrinkled his forehead in irritation at the unwelcome intrusion; the noise of the beehive intensified disturbing his peace. He began to feel the creatures landing on him here and there. He tried to swat them away, but found he couldn’t. He couldn’t move his hands; he was at their mercy. The sound got louder and louder as the noonday sun rose in the sky.
“Is he okay?”
“Get him some water.”
“Turn all those lights on so we can see what we’re doing.”
The bees could talk. Maybe he was watching one of those new Disney movies. He always managed to get them before they hit the theaters.
“How in the hell did he get in these cuffs? Who was supposed to be watching him?”
MJ smelled perfume as he felt one of the bees land gently on his shoulder. Oh, he loved it when they drew the girl animals! They were always so pretty with long eyelashes and girly features.
“Michael? Please open your eyes.”
He slowly raised his eyelids. It was Erika, bending before him on the bed. “Are you okay Michael?”
“Hey, it’s you!” he smiled sleepily.
“Let’s get him out of those cuffs! Who knows how to work these things?” shouted Lenny.
“What happened?” Michael asked looking groggily around.
“You passed out on the bed,” answered Jan stepping forward, a look of worry etched on her face. She knew Lenny would somehow blame her for this.
“I’ll get him some water,” chimed in Suzie before running off to the catering room to fetch his favorite blue capped bottles.
Erika straightened up and moved out of the way to give the technicians room to undo his cuffs. As she turned to climb down off the bed, Mo’Betta caught MJ eyeing her ass which was clad in yet another one of her pencil skirts. “Hmpf! He’s fine. Back to his old self alright!”
“Ay Dios Miyo! How in the hell did he get locked in there?” Lenny continued to fret even after MJ was freed.
“Hey everybody, I’m fine. Everything’s fine, he said as Mo’Betta reached out his hand and helped him to stand up.
Mo leaned in to whisper to MJ, “Hey man, your zipper’s down.”
“Huh? Oh, yeah, thanks,” he whispered back as he turned away from most of the women and towards the headboard to zip it up. He winced slightly at the rubbing of his trousers against his sensitive manhood. That’s when he spotted it: the crimson silk scarf partially hidden under a silken cushion. A smile played upon his lips as he announced, “I’m just fine, back to my old self.”
They slept.
Chapter 10
MJ wrinkled his forehead in irritation at the unwelcome intrusion; the noise of the beehive intensified disturbing his peace. He began to feel the creatures landing on him here and there. He tried to swat them away, but found he couldn’t. He couldn’t move his hands; he was at their mercy. The sound got louder and louder as the noonday sun rose in the sky.
“Is he okay?”
“Get him some water.”
“Turn all those lights on so we can see what we’re doing.”
The bees could talk. Maybe he was watching one of those new Disney movies. He always managed to get them before they hit the theaters.
“How in the hell did he get in these cuffs? Who was supposed to be watching him?”
MJ smelled perfume as he felt one of the bees land gently on his shoulder. Oh, he loved it when they drew the girl animals! They were always so pretty with long eyelashes and girly features.
“Michael? Please open your eyes.”
He slowly raised his eyelids. It was Erika, bending before him on the bed. “Are you okay Michael?”
“Hey, it’s you!” he smiled sleepily.
“Let’s get him out of those cuffs! Who knows how to work these things?” shouted Lenny.
“What happened?” Michael asked looking groggily around.
“You passed out on the bed,” answered Jan stepping forward, a look of worry etched on her face. She knew Lenny would somehow blame her for this.
“I’ll get him some water,” chimed in Suzie before running off to the catering room to fetch his favorite blue capped bottles.
Erika straightened up and moved out of the way to give the technicians room to undo his cuffs. As she turned to climb down off the bed, Mo’Betta caught MJ eyeing her ass which was clad in yet another one of her pencil skirts. “Hmpf! He’s fine. Back to his old self alright!”
“Ay Dios Miyo! How in the hell did he get locked in there?” Lenny continued to fret even after MJ was freed.
“Hey everybody, I’m fine. Everything’s fine, he said as Mo’Betta reached out his hand and helped him to stand up.
Mo leaned in to whisper to MJ, “Hey man, your zipper’s down.”
“Huh? Oh, yeah, thanks,” he whispered back as he turned away from most of the women and towards the headboard to zip it up. He winced slightly at the rubbing of his trousers against his sensitive manhood. That’s when he spotted it: the crimson silk scarf partially hidden under a silken cushion. A smile played upon his lips as he announced, “I’m just fine, back to my old self.”
-finis-
©2010 by Esaes Peligrosa. All photographs and music files are copyright their photographers and creators. No copyright infringement intended. This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. This work may not be reproduced, transmitted, copied, or stored without express written permission from PJWN, Inc.