KING OF POP

I woke up, still laying with Michael. He was sound asleep. I think he got hot within the night because his curls that were always in front of his forehead were sticking and sweat was running down his face. I looked over at his alarm clock that sat on his nightstand. 8:30. Me and Michael didn't have to wake up for another half hour. Michael and I have to go for rehearsal today for the 'Victory Tour' with his brothers. I looked back at Michael to see he was still fast asleep. I grabbed a tissue and lightly dabbed his forehead and sides of his face. As I wiped the sweat away from him, I started...

When Alicia and Michael they both stood up from their chairs. "How is she and baby doing?" Michael asked. "Mr. Jackson both your wife and son are fine, wewe son is in NICU and im afraid to say hes going to be there for awhile his lungs are very under developed, you'll be able to see him and your wife soon, ill let wewe know when wewe will be able to see them." the doctor explained. Relief flooded michael, "Thank wewe so much doctor." Michael alisema as he unexpectly hugged the doctor. "Your welcome Mr.Jackson." the doctor alisema as he turned and walked away.

About an saa and a half the doctor returned...

The rain seemed to intensify with their upendo making, almost encouraging them au even daring them. Another blast of lightning bathed them momentarily and the thunder made itself known - almost as loud as Michael. He rode Mark furiously as he wailed to the ceiling of his ranch bedroom. He pawed up his neck and nipples and tossed his messy dark hair. Fresh sweat dripped from his relaxed locks and forhead and fell to Mark's chest like little raindrops.

Mark tried to concentrate and held onto Michael's small hips encouragingly. He thrust up into his tight wet upendo hole so hard that Michael would...

Michael felt so salama and secure in the darkness that surrounded him. Even with his smooth caramel, karmeli skin completly exposed he felt comfort. He did not open his eyes. His breath was slow and concentrated and his senses high; he didn't need to see. He only needed to feel. His moyo began to race with the passing seconds.

Michael ran a hand over his curvy thigh and another through his loose, dark curls. His lover's mouth massaged his most aching part as he began to moan in ecstasy. The pressure was building in him so rapidly that he knew he would soon succumb, but to what, he was unsure. He only...