FATEFUL ENCOUNTERS
Back by popular demand: My first story- FATEFUL ENCOUNTERS
This story evolved from just trying to see if I could write fanfic to a VERY long tale.
It was inspired by the "Ivy Pictures" taken of Michael and Lisa in February 1998 after their dinner at the Ivy Restaurant in Los Angeles.
I am reposting and making some changes as I go. - Hope you will enjoy re-reading this one even as I enjoy revisiting it.
1)
She had been suspicious when he had not called for over a week. He had promised to be in touch. Howe could he lie to her…again? She nervously checked her watch for the five millionth time. Then she picked up her phone, just in case she did not hear the peep of the missed-call indicator. No, nothing. That son of a bitch. And she was falling for him and his bull shit again. Or had she ever stopped? She was tempted to call him herself. Of course, knowing him, he would not answer. She hated his stupid voicemail. Hated him – almost as much as she loved him.
Surely he would not forget her birthday. No, he always remembered it. Why would this year be different? Especially since she had every reason to believe things between them were heading in the right directions…for once.
“Lisa, why in the world would you keep checking your phone? Have you heard a word I was saying?”
Her mother eyed her with a stern look. Actually, mother really needed to lay off the Botox as trying to decipher the meaning of her facial expressions started to become like solving a puzzle. Annoyed? She looked…surprised. Mad….she looked surprised. Angry..surprised. Surprised…well….
Lisa had to giggle to herself. She did love her mother; even with all her faults, her over protectiveness, her old fashioned pre-conceived notions, and her hawk like business sense. Still, it was funny how she became obsessed with plastic surgery almost as much as her former son-in law. Only with much worse outcome. Michael was an artist. Her mother had become somewhat of a modern piece of art. If she ever had to find a home for her, maybe the Museum of Modern Art would bite. Lisa bit her lip to control the laughter starting to bubble up.
Just answer her, Lisa, before you are in the dog house. Again.
“It’s nothing. I was waiting for a call.”
Priscilla raised an eyebrow. Or attempted the feat, anyway.
“From?”
“None of your business, mother. You were saying?”
“I was asking if you planned to bring a date to your party?” came the haughty response, spawned, no doubt, by her daughter’s reminder to stay out of her private affairs.
“Nope, just the kids. The loves of my life.”
Come on, Mom,bite: let’s talk about the kids instead now.
“You are not seeing anyone?”
She obviously could not help herself. Wasn’t she a picture of maternal love and care. Not. Another moment to roll on the floor laughing. Or cry.
“Nope. No one special, anyway.”
She was lying her ass off. Had to. Her mother would go into cardiac arrest if she knew the truth. Her anger would be red-hot. Her face would be outraged…and look very surprised.
2)
Michael made it out of the business meeting later than he had anticipated. He jumped into his SUV and told the driver to head home.
“Sir, are we stopping anywhere on the way back to the ranch?”
“Nope. We’ll head straight on back.”
He had promised Prince to spend some time with him today. And Debbie was over and wanted to talk to him. The first promise was so easy to keep. The second was a chore worse than…well, right now, he couldn’t’ think of anything worse.
He remembered another promise. Shoot, he had promised to call Lisa. Automatically, he reached for his phone, then something made him change his mind. A small smile played around his sensual lips as he imagined her getting more and more worked up, waiting for his call. Her blue eyes would go light grey, she would start pacing, muttering curse words to herself. Looking mad- and sexy as hell.
He did not fully understand what it was about getting her angry that really turned him on. Just thinking about her possible fury made his penis jump to life. He shifted uncomfortably in the seat.
Geeze, Mike, get a grip, you’ll get to see her soon enough.
Ok, maybe not soon enough. She had pissed him off by not inviting him to her actual party; probably was afraid of the dragon lady- her mother. He was tired of being her dirty little secret. He understood why she wanted to keep their arrangement a secret from the children, but the old which could just stuff it and choke on her disapproval. Plus, it’s not like he would have attended, anyway. But she should have asked…
A small voice reminded him that part of the secrecy involved was due to his current “situation.” The “situation” was his ongoing marriage to Debbie who just happened to be very pregnant again. He really did not consider her his wife, and given a choice, he would have just stuck to their original arrangement of having her artificially inseminated, give birth to his babies, and remain friends. A surrogate. That seemed simple enough. Until Mother had gotten a hold of the story.
He loved his mother with all his heart, and simply had been unable to bear the look of disapproval and hurt in her eyes as he tried to explain the plan to use Debbie as a surrogate to carry his children.
“So, let me get this straight? She will have your children, and you will not marry her?”
He stared at his mother. What was she thinking? Marry Debbie? He almost had to laugh. It was too funny. He fought hard to stay serious, knowing he could not disrespect his mother that way.
“No, mother. We have an arrangement. It’s fine. She wanted to do this for me. “
“What about Lisa Marie?”
Lisa? He and Lisa were divorced. Not his choice, by the way, -not by far. She had lied to him about having his babies, had refused to become pregnant, then had acted like a total bitch when he had to get away for a much needed vacation. All that after she had neglected to inform him that she was hanging out with Danny the Pest in Hawaii. What was with her anyway? Who has to hang out with their exes. And if it all was as innocent as she claimed- why not tell him up front? And then? Then she filed for divorce,- right when he needed her. Of course, first she had to make a horrible scene. When he was lying in a hospital bed, suffering, fighting for his life. Ok, maybe not for his life, but suffering from severe panic attacks anyway. This probably had nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that Debbie had already conceived and he had conveniently failed to mention that fact to his wife. The very wife who tended to get very loud and very angry.
Anyway, it was a mute point now: Debbie lost that baby. So, they tried again- and were successful this time. Timing was slightly off again as he and Lisa had finally started to talk again- until she found out. And started to forge ahead with that damn divorce, cutting him out, not even taking his calls. Well, she was sorry soon enough, sending letters, pleading, offering a soccer team of children. Who did she think he was? Her punching bag? No, at that point, he had cut her fickle but out of his life. For a while that had actually worked. Somewhat…
“Lisa and I are divorced.”
“I thought you said you still loved her?”
As much as he loved Mother, at times she confused apples with oranges.
“Mother, what does that have to do with Debbie and the baby? Lisa and I are divorced; Debbie and I will have a baby, which Debbie offered to have for me. That’s it. No involvement with her.” It was so simple- genius really!
“Michael Joseph! No involvement? The woman is having your child; you created a child with her- a gift from God.”
“We created the baby in a lab, mother. And yes, the baby is indeed a gift from God./”
She shook her head, looked at him in shock.
“I do not care to hear the details, Michael. But if you do not marry this woman who is carrying you child, you are no better than Joseph.”
That stung. And the sting, together with the damn tabloid getting a hold of the story had been the trigger for his marriage proposal and quickie wedding to Debbie.
So, now he was stuck with a wife he liked, but did not love. And he was addicted to the woman he wanted to be his wife, the woman he loved, but did not always like. And at one point, it had all seemed so simple.
3)
Like after he heard that Lisa and Janet were hanging out and that Lisa was still asking about him. They started talking again, and he had realized how much he had missed her. He missed her spunk, missed her laughter, missed her fire. He missed how she smiled at him just before she kissed him, or just before she got ready to devour his very hard, very needy penis. He missed her body, missed making love to her whenever he felt like it…wherever they felt like it. Hell, he even missed their fights.
He thought back to one night a couple of months ago, laying on his bed, talking to her on the phone, when she mentioned that she had to get up to grab a snack. He glanced over at his clock- it was 3 am.
He asked if she remembered their late night dinners.
“Which ones?”
“Which ones? The really…good ones.” His voice dropped an octave when he said “good.”
“Stop it, you know what that voice does to me!”
He smiled. Yes he knew only too well.
“What voice?” He managed to keep a very innocent tone.
“You are so full of shit. And I bet you are smiling your ass off right now.”
He laughed. Damn! That woman knew him so well.
“You are one evil man, Michael Jackson. And everyone thinks you are so innocent and sweet.”
“I AM sweet!”
“No,Mike. You just taste sweet.” Now her voice was husky- even huskier than it normally was.
He felt his erection growing. It didn’t take much when Lisa was the stimulation, and it had been such a long time since he had been inside of her. He reached his hand down to his lose pajama pants, and started to grab his member, stroking it through the fabric.
“Well, you, Miss Presley taste sweet and spicy- all at the same time. Depending on where I taste you. When I run my tongue around your pussy, it is sweet, like strawberries, but the deeper I go, the more you juices get running, the spicier you get, like spicy honey… And when I reach your clit, when I suck it into my mouth..” His voice was very low now, very deep, like dark, smooth velvet.
“…then your clit tastes like a cherry. Like a smooth, hot cherry.”
He heard a sigh. A lazy smile appeared on his face. The hand on his penis grabbed a stronger hold.
“Lisa? What are you doing?”
She cleared her throat.
“I am cleaning out my desk drawer, Michael, did you say something?”
He giggled.
“Sure you are. “
Her voice was a dead giveaway. It dripped with lust. Probably matching her dripping pussy right now.
He was rewarded with a husky laughter.
“Are you touching yourself, Mike?”
“Why?”
“Cause I am. I am lying here on my bed, and I opened my blouse. I am running my fingers over my bra, my breasts are so sensitive right now. You remember?”
“I remember that I could suck them and bite them, and they’d get hard, …and how you would grab my head, holding it in place.”
“I opened my bra, Michael. My breast are hot, but my nipples are hard and pointed, they are exposed to the air now, ready for your mouth, your tongue, you teeth.
He almost came into his pants. Damn! He missed her- she was such a bad, BAD girl.
“Lisa, do you have your hands- free with you?”
“Why, Michael, do I need my hands for something?”
“Yeah, you will in a moment.”
They both switched over to their hands- free sets.
“Lisa, are you still touching your breasts?”
“Uhum”
“Use your right hand to touch your left breast, Lisa. Take your nipple and pinch it. And don’t you dare use your other hand yet. I will hang up if you don’t play right.”
He knew she loved it when he took command of the situation, and he reveled in being in control.
“Ok, Mike. “ He heard her breathing increase. “I am being good.”
“Ok, take your left hand and very slowly run it down your belly. Very slowly, Lise. Are you still wearing pants?”
“No, they’re gone. Only my panties are left.”
“Good girl. So let your hand travel down to your panties, but only let it rest right there- at the elastic, do not go further.”
“Mike! You are mean.”
“Lisa, now move your right hand to your other breast, pinch your nipple.” He gave her a minute
“Then take your fingers and put them into your mouth- use them to wet you nipples, baby. Now blow on them.”
He heard her following his instructions. She moaned, her breathing was now rapid and shallow.
He was rock hard, his penis straining to leave the prison of his pj’s- the tip trying to peek over the top of the elastic.
“Mike, are you hard? Tell me about it.”
“Yes, baby. I am rock hard. It wants to come out and play – in a big way.”
“What are you doing?”
“I will tell you in a sec. Now Lis- keep your hand playing with your breasts, and slowly let your other hand slide insider your panties. Don’t touch your pussy yet….Are you wet?”
“Damn Mike, I am so wet, my panties are soaked clean through. I wish you were here, I wish it was your hand, your long fingers, getting in my panties. I want to feel your fingers in me, Mike. You have no idea, how much.”
“I think I have a pretty good idea.” A cocky smile appeared, revealing his teeth.
He started to reach inside his pants. His erection was huge and hot, his penis now ultra sensitive. He used his large hand to envelope it, his administrations became rougher as he noticed pre-cum appear on its tip. Shit, he was so close, and after so little effort. He decided to take off his pants, and then reclined against his satin pillows, enjoying the contrast of the cool material against his burning skin.
His fingers rubbed over the tip of his penis, shivering from the sensation. What he would give to have Lisa here, have her mouth ready to bring him some much needed relief.
“Mike, what are you doing? Please let me touch myself, I am so hot, I can’t take it.”
“I took my pants of, Lisa. My dick is huge and hot. I am imagining your hands on it, how they slide up and down on it, pulling the skin over it.”
“I love the way your silky skin feels. Like velvet over steel. I wish I was there to do that for you. I would use my hand then get on my knees for you, take you into my mouth….or try to anyway. God, Mike, I can’t forget how huge you are, what it takes to take all of you.”
He had to fight not climax at the image of his dick in her mouth a she struggled to take all of him. As he hit her throat…
Concentrate, man!
“Lisa, slowly, let your fingers go to you pussy. Run it along your pussy lips. Then enter it. Take two fingers and let them slide in, then pull back out.”
“You are killing me, baby. I can’t take it.”
“Yes you can. Now, take your fingers and lick them. How’s it taste, Lise?
“Sweet, just like you said. But not as sweet as you.”
He had trouble breathing and speaking at the same time now- his breath was fast and ragged. Funny how he could manage dancing and singing, but could not masturbate while giving instructions to his wanton ex.
“Lisa, Imma get close; I’m really pumping now. Take your fingers and use them to fuck yourself. “
He heard her moan. He could envision her pelvis gyrating, her ass coming off the bed, her hair fanned out as her head rolled from side to side. He felt his balls starting to draw back, a sure fire sign that he was about to cum.
“Lisa, now use your other hand, and dip it in for a second. Get it nice and wet.”
“Shit Mike, I am so wet, you have no idea.”
“Rub your clit while you imagine you have my fingers inside of you, have my tongue on your clit, sucking it into my mouth.”
The visual did him in, he felt the explosion nearing, felt his juices starting to erupt, while he kept pumping into his hand, wishing it was her pussy instead.
“Fuck, shit, Mike, I’m coming. Oh God, fuck….MIKE!!!!” Her scream was followed by small moans . He heard her panting, her breathing coming in hard gasps.
“That’ right,girl. Of fuck, shit…..” His cum was erupting in a hot, almost painful jet. He screamed one more time, as his hand slowed down, squeezing the seemingly never-ending cum from it. .
For a couple of seconds all they heard were gasps of breath, as they both recovered.
He found his voice first. Cleared his throat, then asked.
“So, how about that midnight snack?”
He heard her throaty laughter.
“You are fucked up.”
“Yeah, woman, you have no idea.”
4)
Now he was really uncomfortable in the car. He looked down on himself and noticed his hand rested on a very stiff Michael Junior.
Think about swimming in the pool on a cool morning. How about water gun fights with Janet and Mac. Think about Debbie….
It seemed impossible to not think about Lisa, which really annoyed him to great extent. He wished she was not the center of so many of his thoughts, wished he didn’t have to want her all the time, or to constantly remember every single thing about her: The feel of her skin, the scent of her hair, the hot casing of her wet heat around his member, the delightful teasing of her mouth engulfing him… Ok, these thoughts were definitely not helping!
It was ok for her to be obsessed with him and follow him around the globe- that was fine. Actually, it had been pretty funny. And convenient. And hot …. Plus, it had only seemed fair- for all the misery she had put him through over the years. And she had called him unbalanced and selfish? Unbelievable!
His thoughts turned to his children. He realized Debbie was due to give birth to his little girl in 2 months. Then he could finally talk to her about the divorce. He knew she would be upset, he was very clear about how she felt about him. But he had always been upfront and open about the boundaries of their relationship, and most of the time, she had accepted the terms of that arrangement. He hoped she would not be angry or mad- he had a life time supply of women in his life screaming at him or being angry for one thing or another. If he never heard a shrill or loud word or see another pout, his life would be JUST perfect. Why did they have to be so impossibly hard to understand?
Ok, the last thoughts had finally distracted his body from the aftereffects of remembering his hot little conversations with Lisa. His raging hard on had finally subsided. It was safe to enter his home. Convenient, since the driver had just engaged the gate opener. If his luck held, he might be able to sneak in and not see Debbie for another couple of hours. On the other hand, he wanted to feel his baby- wanted to put his head on Debbie’s stomach and feel her kick. He wanted to touch her and sing to her. Too bad all these wonderful things involved Debbie, too.
Also, he could not wait to see Prince. He had left for the city before his son had woken up this morning, and he missed him already. Prince was almost a year old- he could not believe his birthday was coming up fast. Now that he had started to walk, his nanny usually brought him downstairs as soon as she was told that Michael had come through the gates. Prince loved to greet his Daddy, to walk on shaky legs up to him, his little arms up in the air, beaming, laughing, ready to be picked up and tossed into the air.
Michael walked toward his staircase, singing to himself quietly.
“Daddy!”
Prince came toddling around the corner. He wore a cute little play suit and his hair was combed perfectly. Michael felt the love for his son hit him with the power of ten atomic blasts.
“Hey, little man! Come to Daddy. I missed you SO much.”
He crouched down to pick him up.
“Did you miss me too?”
Darn it- his luck had run out.
“Hello, Debbie, how are you?”
©2011 Erika B Michaels. All Rights Reserved. This story is a work of fiction. Any names, places, and other identifying features are used in a fictional manner, for entertainment purposes only, and are in no way representative of actual events. This work may not be reproduced, copied, transmitted, or stored without expressed written permission by Erika B Michaels. All photos and images, mentioned songs or song titles are copyright their creators. ABSOLUTELY no disrespect is intended to any persons portrayed in this work.
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