Adult Content: 18+

Thursday, September 1st, 1983

Los Olivos, California

3:14 P.M.

I turned my head to look at him,"We're gonna be home owners."

He laughed at me.

Our eyes locked as we laid there staring at each other with the grass swaying tranquilly around us, I couldn't look away. In the five years I've known Michael I'd swear he's grown even more handsome if that's even physically possible; his chin and jawline have grown more sharp, his eyes deeper and full of a boundless curiosity as well as love...his lithe figure has also gained a little muscle - though he'll deny it if you mention it. Looking at his unearthly beauty made me bite my lip, I didn't know what else to do. He continues to make me feel this way - as though it's our first intimate moment together seemingly more often than should be possible, and it makes me burn for him all that much more.

Instinct soon took over my body as I quickly straddled him atop the grassy knoll, grinding into his pelvis with my own as his large hands instantly gripped my waist. He moaned loudly.

"Its like you read my mind." He leaned upwards as I leaned down, our lips meeting in a quick, heated fashion as we dry-humped out in the open air, desperate for glorious friction.

Today, I wore a dress. Don't ask me why because I don't know the answer myself, maybe I just felt particularly feminine today? Or maybe it was the thought of easy access for moments like this... I can't be sure. With a growl emanating from his chest, Michael moved his hands underneath the skirt of my dress. Those deliciously long fingers of his found their mark, my swollen pearl - and my lack of panties to boot. He rubbed me how I've taught him, bringing me close to the edge yet stopping exactly before I reach my peak - I'm so fucking horny right now, it's unreal - because it's more fun to cum with his dick filling me to the absolute brim. I threw my head back, whimpering.

"Michael please." Came my begging. He removed his hand from me, grinding my womanhood against the roughness of his bluejeans.

"Please, what? Tell me what you want, baby." He was panting just like me. The sound is so... delicious? Yes. Fucking delicious... I leaned down, whispering my demands in his ear.

"I want to ride your dick until it's as slick as polished marble, Daddy. Is that vivid enough for you?" He growled again at my confession, sitting up only to capture my lips again roughly. My hands reached down in a fumble to the button and zipper of his jeans, undoing them. Already a throbbing tent, I moved his underwear out of the way, stroking him freely against the breeze of the beautiful day. His tip was oozing precum already, as by the sounds of his little sighs and whimpers alike, it seemed Michael was feeling quite sensitive today. This will be my advantage, I thought deviously.

He grunted against my lips and tongue as we kissed, but he'd had enough teasing...

"Stop! Let me feel you..." His commanding tone told me to allow him to take things over, so I did. One of Michael's hands took his length out of mine, lifted up the skirt of my dress, and struck gold as he entered me. Quick thrusts upward made me bounce. I could feel my breasts heave every time his hips snapped towards my dripping core.

I grew so close to tipping over the edge from how he moved himself within me. I moaned louder than I'd anticipated, making myself blush from something other than the exertion my legs were beginning to feel. 

"Oh!" A sound escaped from my lips as Michael quickly flipped us over. Now he was on top and I could be found on my back, and his thrusting became erratic as he sped on like a racehorse running for the Triple Crown at the Kentucky Derby - the ultimate prize. He went so fast, I swear there'll be grass stains on this dress for the rest of time that no washing machine or dry cleaner's will be able to get out. "Oh, Michael... Fuck!"

 "I'm... close. Uhh." Normally him pounding me like a familiar hand with lotion didn't turn me on in the slightest, but for some weird and unexplainable reason... recently it had. And it was making my orgasm build quickly to my great surprise.

"Same." I gripped both his shoulders, "A little more, please." 

I meant: Hold out a bit longer so I can fucking cum too. But I guess my body just wants to moan and beg, so whatever.

"Upwards?" He asked me, wondering about the angle of his penis as it stroked my insides. I've told him before - or, well, he figured out during the time we fucked over the side of the fountain at Havenhurst - that if he angled his hips upward, then his member would hit my g-spot. And holy crap, does he hit it good...

"Yes! Why are you even asking?! OHH FUCK ME." Those hips of his are an absolute God send! Thank you, Jesus! It only took him a couple strokes more at this new angle before I tipped over the edge and came hard, making my whole body contort in pleasure. I felt dirt lodging itself  under my fingernails as I gripped the ground, trying to feel tethered to the earth as I rode the flying waves of ecstasy my fiance had just gifted me. 

I'd kept my promise of riding him till he was as slick as marble stone, but even then my walls gripped him tightly - encouraging him towards his peak. Soon, that's exactly what he did. I felt him empty his warm load into me with a satisfaction I've only felt with him. Like all men when going quick and dirty in the grass, he panted into the crook of my neck trying to catch his breath.

He stayed inside me for as long as possible; Michael once said to me that's one of his favorite things about sex -  that intimate moment after both partners have orgasmed quite thoroughly and their in each other's arms, breathing heavily, vulnerable and sated all at the same time. He said that love can be felt quite strongly in the air at that moment, the familiar smells of sex too of course... he's nothing if not realistic. The thought still makes me smile, chuckle sometimes too. I kissed his damp cheek.

"Have I satisfied my future husband?" Grinning as I spoke, he leaned back to look me in the eyes. My hand played in his soft, dark curls as he gave me a look before laughing. "What?"

"I just had a thought, it's nothing." I didn't want to let him play it off.

"No, tell me please." He bit his lip at my light begging. I want to know.

"Ok... um,"

How can he be shy now? After all that? And this isn't the first time we've been rough either... How cute of him. His confession came out as a whisper.

"Feels like we just made a baby..."

"And that's bad because...?" My eyebrow raised.

"You'd want another?" He asked, surprised.

"With you? Of fucking course I do! You silly man." I giggled as he gave me the best grin I've ever seen grace his features, his lips kissed my forehead before he rolled over next to me on the grass. Already removed from my womb, I felt a slight rush of coolness from the lack of him while next to me he put himself away with a sudden zip of his jeans.

"Boy or girl?" He asked, looking up at the clouds. My eyes followed suit.

"Either. Doesn't matter as long as it's our's and it's healthy." I kept my knees bent, hoping that we'd stay in the position for at least another ten minutes... I bit my bottom lip.

"I feel the same." Michael's hand grabbed mine, "Do you think Marjorie heard us?" My face contorted at the thought.

"She might have heard me curse, but I think it's more likely she saw us rather than heard us." He blushed at my response, putting his free hand to his fiery cheek and whispered his next words.

"She signed a confidentiality agreement, didn't she?" I nodded, confirming our cover and her silence. He breathed out a sigh of relief, "Oh, thank god." We laughed together for a while and laid there a bit longer before getting back up. We walked back to where Marjorie stood to tell her we'll be taking the entire piece of property off the market right now, after all, it is consecrated ground now.

Meanwhile

Havenhurst, Encino, California

  One of household workers for the Jackson family was roaming the halls having finished their daily duties, but hearing a hushed conversation coming from the dining room caught and enraptured their attention with ease. Pausing near one of the short hallways towards the room, they stopped and listened in on the rich news that would otherwise be forbidden for the ears of all others...

"Don't raise your voice at me, there's no need."

"But Katie, he's young and dumb. We know exactly what went on up in his room while she lived here for those few months, it's nothing new. Males have needs and Michael must have figured it was easier to just have the girl live with him, convenience." There was a dull smacking sound followed  by an audible 'ow'.

"How dare you! She's an upstanding girl, and you know it! Michael's become a wonderful man with Astoria in his life, and she's... so ambitious, just like him. I support their marriage."

"He couldn't have found a black woman to settle with?" The patriarch of the house sounded disappointed.

"Is that's what's bothering you about all of this? That she's pale?" She scoffed and paused. The listener took a step closer, "Joseph, they will make wonderful grandbabies. That's all that matters, that, and they love each other." There was a sigh.

"I'll keep my mouth shut... for you." A light smooch-like sound could be heard followed by the familiar scrapings of a chair against tile flooring. "I'll go call the boy then."

With wide eyes the listener quickly moved away and around the corner, out of sight as footsteps padded nearby. You see, this person has been collecting bit of information about this family for years - but they haven't told any of it yet. No, they were biding their time. Waiting for the perfect moment to bring everything tumbling down, while they'd be safe with a bank account full of enough money to last them till death. 

Now, you're probably wondering: why does this person have a vendetta against this family? Well, have you ever met someone and simply disliked them? No matter what they do or you, they just seem to poke at your every annoyance - even if they're nice. That's what this is for them. Like a festering splinter that's stuck underneath a fingernail that you just can't seem to get out no matter how hard you try, that's the Jackson family to this person. It can't be helped.

Since 1976 this person was with them every step of the way, well... at home they were. Not everyone was allowed on the tours. But the point is, one day, the Jackson's legacy will fall. HARD. And unable to recover.

Ϟ

Remember the listener from Chapter 17?

Same person.