November 2, 1984 - Miami Florida
(During the Victory Tour.)
After performing to a sold-out crowd, Michael left the show feeling exhausted. He had been on the road for four months straight with barely any time to relax. Many times he would get lonely on tour and wished for someone to talk to—other than his brothers, bodyguards, and bandmates.
While returning to his hotel room, he noticed a beautiful woman walking down the hall in his direction. As the two passed, his hand lightly brushed hers, causing his body to shiver. Signaling his bodyguards to stop, he told them to wait, as he turned around to catch up with the woman before she exited the hotel. "Hello, how are you?" He greeted her shyly.
"Oh, hi, I'm doing well. How are you, Mr. Jackson?" She greeted calmly in return.
"I'm exhausted, but other than that—I'm doing all right."
As she took in his sweaty appearance, she imagined him sprawled out on her bed, as she kissed and licked every part of his glistening body. Pushing the naughty thought out of her head, she started heading for the lobby door. "Sorry, Mr. Jackson, but I have to go. I'm headed to a friend's party, and I'm only here for one night."
Grabbing her softly by the hand, he pulled her close and whispered, "this is my only night here as well."
"So, what are your plans for the evening, Mr. Jackson?" She cooed seductively while licking her lips.
Michael chuckled and then flashed a mischievous grin. "I was wondering if you could join me for a drink in my room? I don't get to socialize much while on the road, and I was hoping we could talk for a bit?"
Though his offer was tempting, she knew her friend would never forgive her if she missed her party, and besides that, she was engaged to be married in a few months. Sensing that he wanted to do more than "talk," she didn't think it was wise to go to his room alone. She wasn't worried about him hurting her or anything, but she knew that once alone with him, she wouldn't be able to resist him any longer. "I'm sorry, but I can't. My friend would kill me if I missed her party."
Michael frowned as he curled his index finger under her chin and then asked, "are you sure?"
"Well, I guess I could spare a few minutes." She uttered softly. "The party isn't too far from here."
Michael didn't make a habit of sleeping with random women on the road, but there were times when he needed the comforts of a woman, and simply put—have sex. He had been feeling super horny for the past few weeks, and self-pleasuring himself was growing old fast. Not being able to resist her plump lips any longer, he kissed her deeply as his hot tongue twirled around her's. As the two got lost in the heat of the moment, Michael felt her body go limp, prompting him to grab ahold of her waist—as she wrapped her hands around the back of his neck.
When Michael saw that his bodyguards were watching them, he signaled for them to leave. Over the past couple of years, he had come up with a simple hand gesture that signaled when he wanted to be left alone, but only if it was safe for him to do so.
As Michael escorted the gorgeous woman up to his penthouse suite, they continued kissing until the elevator doors opened. "So, what's your name? If you don't mind telling me?" He said breathlessly after pulling away from her.
"It's Leila." She smiled.
"Beautiful name. Can I get you something to drink, Leila?"
"Sure. I'll take a rum and coke if you have it."
As Michael left to prepare her drink, she chastised herself silently. "Leila! What in the hell are you thinking? You're about to be married soon!"
"Damn it! I know! But this is nothing more than a one night stand; let me get this out of my system! What woman of sound mind would turn down a night with Michael Jackson?" She retorted to herself in frustration.
When Michael returned with her drink, he asked her to sit on the bed beside him.
As Leila took a sip of her drink, she all but slung it back in one gulp as her nerves started to get the best of her.
After taking the last sip, a tiny bit of the drink leaked out the side of her mouth down to her breast. "Oh my gosh! I swear I have a hole in my lip!" She cried out in embarrassment.
When she asked if he had a napkin, he leaned into her closely, licking the sweet and bitter liquid off of her warm skin. As Michael lightly traced his tongue from the side of her mouth, down her neck, and in between her breast, she let out a small moan. "Mmm . . . your skin is so soft." He groaned as his dick pressed hard against his pants.
Taking her hands in his, he noticed what seemed to be an engagement ring on her finger. "I'm sorry, Michael . . . but I have to go," she murmured into his hair as she started having second thoughts.
Michael looked at her daringly, removed her ring, and then said, "just one night, please."
As Leila's resolve began to weaken, she placed a tender kiss on his cheek as she proceeded to undress him slowly. "Damn! You drive a hard bargain," she whispered in his ear.
"Literally or figuratively?" He chuckled.
"Both." She smiled.
When she finally freed him of his underwear, his member stood fully erect as its tip glistened with pre-cum. As she gently touched the tip of his wand, some of his cream clung to her fingers. "Hmm . . . I wonder what you taste like, Mr. Jackson?" She smirked.
"Oh, Shit!" He muttered low and deep as he watched her suck her fingers clean of his essence.
"Just as I thought," she said silkily. "You taste incredible."
"Are you going to keep your clothes on?" He laughed as he tugged on the hem of her dress.
Leila gazed at him seductively as she grabbed his hands and placed them on her hips. "Well, shouldn't you be undressing me then?"
Once she was fully naked, he took a step back to admire every inch of her. "You're stunning, Leila."
"And you're not too bad yourself, Mr. Jackson." She winked.
After laying her down on the bed, he entered her slowly, causing her to squeal. "Oooh, Michael . . . Damn! You feel so good."
Michael groaned. "So do you, Leila—so do you."
Once he was entirely inside of her, she held onto his muscular back as he pumped his dick slowly in and out of her. When he hit her G-spot, she began to sob loudly in pleasure. "Ahhh, Mr. Jacks--"
Cutting her off abruptly, he chimed breathlessly, "call me Michael, baby—I love the way you say my name."
Gripping her legs around him, he began to pump her faster and faster, causing the bed to shake in the process.
"Ahh . . . For you!"
"Does it feel good, Leila?"
"Yes! So fucking good."
With one last pump, they both cried out in pleasure as they experienced the most intense orgasm that either had ever felt.
"Damn, baby—that was incredible." He said hoarsely as he rolled her on top of him, then stroking the small of her back.
"Oh, Michael, that's my spot. You're gonna make me . . . Ahhh!" She moaned loudly as the mere touch of his hand caused her to orgasm once more.
As they lie hot and sweaty together in silence, Michael was the first to speak. "I hope you don't think that I'm some sort of womanizer. I don't do this often, but when I saw you, I couldn't resist."
"I figured as such, Michael. I get it. It's hard being on the road. Sometimes you just need to get laid." She laughed.
Clearing his throat, he asked, "so, how long have you been engaged?"
"Only for a few months."
"Are you ready to get married?"
"I think so. But sometimes . . . I wonder if I'm making the right decision, you know?"
"Yeah—it's a big step to take. I hope to get married someday but not right now," He replied in earnest. "I have so much I'd like to do before settling down."
Placing a kiss on his left nipple, she sucked it gently before speaking again. "Well, that's enough talking, Mr. Jackson, let's just enjoy this night, ok?"
As they proceeded to have sex several more times, they finally fell asleep at the wee hours of the morning. When Leila awoke a few hours later, she watched Michael as he slept quietly. Not wanting to disturb him, she quietly eased out of his bed and got dressed, but before leaving his suite, she carefully placed a tender kiss on his lips as she said 'goodbye.' She just needed to feel his lips once more, for she knew it would be the last time she'd ever kiss him again.
When Michael awoke later that afternoon, he reached out for Leila, but she was gone. "Goodbye, Leila," he whispered to himself as he sprung out of bed, feeling completely relaxed. From that moment forward, whenever he heard his song: "P. Y. T."—he would forever think of his one night with Leila.
@ Copyright 2018-2021 Midnight August Moon
Author's Note: This is also the prequel to my full novel titled, "Michael and Leila." Click the link button below to read the story.