Wednesday, May 10th, 9 a.m., the loft
Wow, I was such a spaz in my last journal entry. Thank GOD Michael is the best boyfriend I could ever ask for! Yesterday was such an incredible day, even though it started with my anxiety through the roof! I swear, I don't know why I get so worked up over things! I should've known it would all work itself out. Everything turned out fine. Well, more than fine, actually, but I'm getting ahead of myself, aren't I? I'm not here to elaborate on the whole blowjob blowout incident; instead, I'm here to continue documenting prom night, one of the best nights ever!
So, where was I?
Oh, right.
I told Michael how much I loved him when he mouthed, "I know," mimicking Han Solo's reply to Princess Leia when she confessed her love for him in Star Wars: Episode V- The Empire Strikes Back. That's when I practically threw myself on top of him, kissing him in a hunger I've never experienced before. I'm now wondering if this is how Tina felt when she confessed to me at the Icepack Penguin exhibit the first time she and Boris had sex, that it was "just too much to resist." It must have been because, I swear, I honestly don't know what came over me jumping on Michael like that! Well, I mean, I DO! I was ready to have sex, but I had no idea it would happen like flicking on a light switch!
I was getting very comfortable on top of Michael, and he was too, crushing me closer with his arms wrapped around my waist, making our bodies form as one on his big oversized couch. We were like this for a long time. I mean, a really long time as our tongues entwined in their intimate dance of need and hunger. The memories from our previous makeout sessions came rushing back like a tidal wave. It felt like old times, like we were back in Michael's College dorm room when he attended Columbia University, where I had let Michael's hands venture the farthest.
At first, when Michael started to roam, I hovered my hand over his, moving in all the sensational directions over my body, in preparation to smack away before the inevitable of getting caught. It was not until Michael reminded me, in a low husky whisper, that we were alone, and I was all his for the night. I relaxed immediately, running my hand slowly up his muscular arm, outlining the shape of his biceps before tangling my fingers into his hair.
This, by the way, reminded me that not only had Michael gotten even hotter in Japan, but also had indeed confirmed our suspicions. He had undoubtedly bulked up! I remember thinking then, hoping he didn't go too Wolverine on me. Not that I would mind because it's Michael, but I had never considered myself attracted to that muscular body type. Spoiler alert: It totally turns me on! I just watched X-Men 3: The Last Stand, and I can confirm Micahel has gone full Wolverine!
Anyway, I'm getting ahead of myself. It was silly, thinking we'd get caught, but I guess all these years, being hyper-aware of the lack of juvenile privacy made me paranoid, except now I was eighteen, and no one was around to interrupt us. Not Lars, not Michael's former roommate, Doo Pak, his parents, or mine, and not even his sister, Lily, could break our lip lock. I melted into his touch, truly enjoying where Michael's hands roamed freely without worry.
As his hands wandered, I felt safe and secure. And since I'm admitting my deepest secrets in this journal, I was very, very turned on, unlike when I was trying to feel something, ANYTHING with J.P.
Although, when Michael's hand stopped wandering and he began to palm my left breast, I started kicking myself for wearing such a thick padded bra. I almost opted for no bra entirely that night, except for Grandmère's criticism in front of everyone when I was showcasing my Prom dress to the family. She pointed to my nipples and stated, "These are too distracting." Thanks, Grandmère. So because of this decision made by my grandmother, I now couldn't feel much of anything, but I guess this is very reminiscent of Michael's Prom four years ago, where I could have sworn Michael was trying to feel me up for the first time. To this day, I still have no clue if that was by accident or on purpose. I should get to the bottom of that and ask him.
Anyway, I think he could tell I wasn't feeling it since when we were touring around Central Park in the romantic horse-drawn carriage for twenty-something blocks, making out, and Michael getting a little… Okay, VERY handsy. That day, I wore a thin lacy bra, so you know he and I could feel EVERYTHING! I mean, I could feel my nipples were hard just by kissing him.
Now you can see why I freaked so much! Not only did we…..
1) Eat at the totally romantic, The Loeb BoatHouse restaurant, while I was promposed to another man.
2) Took an incredibly intimate horse-drawn carriage ride around Central Park.
3) Then kissed passionately for twenty-something blocks.
4) And for those said blocks, Michael was FEELING ME UP!
5) And to my SHOCK I loved the way Michael was NIPPLE PINCHING AND ALL!
I was getting frustrated that it wasn't the same, and I think Michael was too. I mean, he was trying, but I really couldn't feel anything, so I slowly broke our kiss and looked into Michael's glossy questioning eyes.
"Michael," I softly uttered, getting ready to explain myself.
But as his eyes searched mine, a fire danced in them that I had never seen before, and I knew right then I didn't have to express myself. I was already doing that in my body language, so I let the moment ease into the next.
"Mia," my name slipped from his lips, carrying a blend of desire and passion in that husky tone he tenderly whispered. He delicately removed the hairpins Grandmère had gifted me for my birthday, letting them land on the coffee table with a subtle tink resonating against the glass. His hand glided through my dense locks toward the back of my head, drawing me closer to him as we reunited in our intimate kiss.
I was totally savoring his lips, tongue, and hands, so I'm not entirely sure when I started dry-humping Michael because, by the time I became aware of what I was doing, I could directly feel how turned on he was. I sort of freaked since, by this point, I'd only ever patted his hard-on. I'd never truly felt it, especially this close next to my groin. So, I ended our kissing session by sitting up; only it made things worse, or I should say, more focused on his hardness when straddling him. I stared at Michael, looking so incredibly hot laying under me. I now had renewed enthusiasm as I stared into his eyes—filled with love, support, and just a hint of eagerness, and it made me more confident to do what I did next.
After staring at each other for a long moment, Michael slid his large hands along my waist and placed them on both sides of my hips, and it reminded me what I needed to do. With the help of his steady hands, I began to slowly roll my hips in a circular motion, grinding my wet, hot center against the hard bulge within his black denim jeans.
It honestly felt so sensational, the way his pelvis slightly thrust into mine, moving identically in rhythm at my most sensitive nerve. I've only had the experience with my Hello Kitty personal massager and the handheld shower head for reference. This was a very different feeling, though, since I could feel his manhood wiggling at times, surprising me. I had to bite at my lower lip to contain the moan that I so desperately wanted to escape.
After a little while, I placed my hands on Michael's chest for a better balance, and I soon found it also helped with the ease of my hip rolling. That's when I watched his eyes flutter closed as he let out a fierce moan, melting more into the couch.
I'm not sure how or when I decided what I did next, but my hands slid down to the buttons of his jeans, unfastening it from its loophole. High on my newfound sexy autopilot, I pinched with my index and thumb at the clasp of the zipper and slowly started to unzip the material caging Michael's sex, exposing his black boxer briefs. Curiosity of what lay beneath caught the better of me, and I licked my lips with anticipation with questions (albeit no thanks to Lana, I'm sure) running through my head, like, how big is it? Is it hairy? Will it look weird? Will he fit inside me? Will I like it? Then, all of a sudden, Michael was at eye level, placing his hand over mine before I could go any farther than I had gotten.
"Not that I want to stop you, but…." Michael said, trailing off, looking down at our hands, then met my eyes with his shocked, widened expression and swallowed hard. His Adam's apple, I swear, looked like an exaggeration from a cartoon where it bobbed down and then back up.
"What, what is it?" I questioned in concern, unsure what happened in his freeze-up. Had I done something wrong?
Michael cleared his throat, "It's nothing. I just, I didn't expect you to be this wet." He admitted, holding up his hand, sliding around the sticky clear discharge that wiped away from his pants when he stopped me from going further.
"Oh, I, um. Yes, that…. Well, I can explain." I stammered around my words, avoiding eye contact while my cheeks heated from embarrassment. Before I could think of something to say, all I could hear was Michael's laughter.
Yes, that's right, Michael was laughing for whatever reason. I wasn't sure until he said, "Mia, I know how your anatomy works. You don't have to explain to me why you're wet. I didn't realize how turned on you were, and it surprised me when I felt the puddle."
I gasped at his exaggeration and countered. "It isn't a puddle!"
"I didn't mean for you to take offense. It was supposed to be a compliment. Anyway, I find it so fucking hot."
Hot? This sticky, smelly, sometimes gooey liquid turns him on. "Oh?"
"Yes, Mia, it's extremely hot." He nodded with assurance while tucking with his non-soiled hand, a few strands of runaway hair behind my ears.
"You have no idea how much I want you right now!" I admitted while burying my face in his neck, calming my nerves, and getting a great big whiff of his MHC.
He wrapped his arms around me, soothing his hands over my back while chuckling. "Oh, I think I do. Okay, okay, I think you've had enough of my neck for the moment. Also, you should probably get off my lap now. Not only is it getting more difficult to be confined by my jeans because of your puddle, but it's also getting harder to think straight."
"Michael?" I questioned. What did he mean to think straight? Tonight was all about us, to have SEX! Wasn't it? That's what I was implying when we were leaving the Prom.
Michael closed his eyes and breathed slowly in and out a few times, then opened his eyes with a look of renewed determination and said, "I'm sorry, Mia. We have to stop. There's no telling what I'd do if we continued."
"I don't want to stop." I firmly stated. "When I suggested we go back to your place, I was implying we will have sex tonight. I thought you understood that."
"Oh, yeah, I read the implication all over your face, Thermopolis. And as much as I wanted to rush you back to my place to make love to you, now that we're here, I dunno." He ran a hand through his thick brown hair, sighing. "I want to take it slow. We just got back together. We shouldn't feel the need to rush into anything tonight. I want to savor us."
So, there you go. No, we did not have sex on Prom night, unlike what everyone thought. I don't know how Lana could tell just by looking at me that I've had sex because we SO did not!
Although, you might consider her radar still on the nose if you call what happened next "sex."
However, with all my senses clouded in judgment, I did not relish Michael's romantic emphasis on 'savor us' as I was quick to pout. I stuck out my bottom lip and whimpered, dissatisfied with his rejection of not making love tonight. Can you believe that!? I mean, what WAS I on?! Is it some sort of hormonal Prom night drug? My mom was sooooo right! - Whoa!
Every single thought I had focused on the heat throbbing at my core. I was sex-starved! And all I wanted to do was release the endorphins and oxytocin my body had been storing up from the sexy dry-humping we'd been doing just a few minutes ago.
"Michael," I whined like Rocky would when he didn't get his way. I bit my lower lip and batted my eyelashes, thinking he'd change his mind if I worked on him. But I had no such luck as he slid me off to readjust his pants. I crossed my arms together in annoyance, and that's when I had the devilish idea come to mind.
Once more, I want to stress, who was this? Because I absolutely had no clue. It felt like an out-of-body experience because the next thing I did was something I would NEVER HAVE SAID OR DONE in a MILLION YEARS! "Fine, I'll just do it myself," I spewed in verbal word vomit.
Yeah, that's all I had to do to get Michael's attention. So I smirked and waved my hand in his face, asking, "Oh? Are you feeling threatened by my hand, Michael?"
He smirked, clasping his fist around my wrist, asserting his dominance. "Not at all. I would definitely love to see the Princess of Genovia pleasure herself."
My eyes grew wide in surprise. I had to hand it to him; my plan certainly backfired, I broke free from his grip and once again crossed my arms in a pout. He only chuckled and kissed my nose, admitting, "You know, you're adorable when you're sexually frustrated."
I only too eagerly finished his sentence in a lower tone, pretending he was saying, "And adorable enough to help end your frustration." To which Michael only laughed harder.
"I'm serious," I said in a thoughtful tone, hoping this time, without being too playful, he'd consider my request.
"Mia," Michael said in a warning.
"Michael," I spat his name right back at him.
He sighed heavily, considering the weight of my words. "I'm not avoiding your request on purpose. It's just not a wise decision. I don't have any protection." Michael ran a hand through his hair, inhaling deeply, and continued with a heavy breath, "But regardless if I had protection or not, I meant what I said when I wanted to take things slow and savor us."
I listened this time with bated breath, my heart finally melting at his sentiments. "Michael, I'm…. I'm so sorry." I felt ridiculous for pushing him to do something he was adamant about. "I don't mean to force you to do anything you're uncomfortable with."
"You don't need to apologize, Mia. The thing is, I want to pleasure you. Fuck, you don't know how badly I want to touch you the way you want me to right now. But, I don't know if I could trust myself to keep it to just that."
"That's the thing, Michael, I trust you. After all these years, the boundaries I've set, you never once tried to push them to the next level without my consent. Why would you think this time would be any different?"
"Because those boundaries you've set are no longer what you want."
"But clearly, the boundaries are not gone because now you're the one who's setting them."
"True."
"So you see, we can still take baby steps even when exploring the more physical side of our relationship without worry."
"Why did I even question this? You're right. You always know what is the right thing to do." Michael slid his strong hands up my bare arms, sending shivers down my spine and ripples of goosebumps all over my body. "So, are you ready to take that next step with me, Thermopolis?"
I nodded my head frantically, "God, yes!" I vocalized a little too eagerly, but whatever, I was desperate for his touch. He guided me on my back, sinking me onto the couch's soft cushions preparing me for his delectable contact.
At first, his kisses were soft, light little pecks that became more hungry as his hands roamed down my body, then finally, he hiked up my dress and found my already wet, sopping center. I could hear him curse under his breath as he moved his hand over my inner thigh, then skipped to my other side, teasing me. I squirmed underneath him, hardly containing my excitement, when finally, his middle finger found the slickness of the barrier of my panties.
Michael propped up on one elbow, moving the strains of hair that gathered in my face. He used his free hand to smooth them away while looking deep into my eyes, seeking that last silent permission I granted immediately by thrusting my hips onto his fingers, making me moan. Much to my surprise, he eagerly closed his lips over mine as he explored my inner sanctum.
I whimpered as he lightly flittered his fingers over my sensitive clit, making me gasp his name between our kisses. I could feel him smile as he kept going, repeatedly playing where I had reacted, which caused me to break our kiss, gasping, "Oh, Michael!"
He nibbled on my earlobe when I was too busy using my lips to express my pleasure. After about the seventh millionth time, I moaned loudly, "Oh Michael," he breathlessly asked, "Yes, Mia?" Knowing full well what he was doing to me as he continued to reach the same spot, over and over and over again.
"Oh my god, Michael!" I cried.
Soft chuckling came from his lips right next to my ear, and his hot breath filled my ear canal as I sobbed his name again. I was close. He had me so very close that I vocalized it.
"Jesus, Mia, you're so fucking hot." Michael cursed under his breath, continuing his labored efforts.
I was just about to come when Michael asked me to open my eyes in a husky voice, and so I did, staring back at his lust-filled mahogany that housed specks of ruby and gold flecks. I've gotten lost in those eyes, and I was about to get lost in Michael Moscovitz's eyes once more, as I climaxed for the first time in front of him.
I chanted the first half of his name mainly from being out of breath, "Mic, Mic, Mic…" Until the bubbles boiled over, and I extended the scream of the A in his name for what seemed like an eternity before concluding the last of his syllables at the peak of my euphoria.
I'd never felt self-gratification of this magnitude, making my toes curl and my vision turn blind white. After what seemed like an eternity, catching my breath, I could see again, but not without impaired vision, as I witnessed dot-like stars circling my eyesight for another three minutes or so. I only wanted to curl up in Michael's arms and fall fast asleep.
"Want me to do it again?" He asked with a smirk, hovering over my center just enough that I could feel the heat of a finger.
My eyes shot open with his statement. "Oh my god, please, not now. I've never come so hard before. Let me rest!"
Michael laughed at me while I removed his hand from my tender sex. "I didn't mean now, silly."
"Oh, thank God, I couldn't handle it. I'm so sensitive right now. But yes, I think you already know the answer from my, um, well, outburst."
He shrugged with a grin plastered on his handsome face, "I just wanted to hear you say it."
"Oh," I uttered, blushing a deep shade of amber.
"And I guess I'll have to soundproof my bedroom before Boris moves in," he quickly added.
"Oh my God, I was not that loud!" I smacked him playfully on his shoulder.
"Enough to wake the dead, Mia." He remarked stone-faced.
I buried my face in the crook of his neck, getting another whiff of his MHC to calm me from embarrassment. I had no idea I could be so vocal! "Oh, God, I'll try to be quieter next time, Michael," I muttered against his delicious smelling skin.
"Don't you dare!" He said, digging my face from his neck to capture my eyes. "It was so hot to see the real you. I never want to unsee it. We've definitely reached a new level, haven't we, Mia?"
I nodded with a yawn, "Yes, we really have."
"Come on, sleepyhead, let's head to bed." Michael declared, getting up from the couch. I whined softly, not wanting to move, so he took the cue, lifted me bridal style, and carried me to his room. In all the excitement of being held, it gave me a bit of an adrenaline rush enjoying the ride.
Once we arrived into his modest size bedroom, he placed me on the right hand side of his queen-size bed, then immediately walked over to his five drawer dresser on the opposite side rummaging through the top two drawers. He placed a set of pj's on his side then threw boxers and a black oversize t-shirt in my direction.
I stared at him as he looked like he was about to take off his black Skinnerbox shirt when he grabbed his Pajamas off the bed and smiled down at me. "There's no free shows tonight, Thermopolis."
I jokingly pouted as he strolled to the master bathroom, closing the door behind him. I figured now was as good as any to dress in the clothing Michael gave me. I took off my black lace Prom dress and its slip, carefully hanging it up in his closet. I shimmied out of my wet thong, letting it drop to the floor, and then finally, I unclasped my girls free from the horrible thick padded bra, dropping it down next to my thong. Good riddance. I put on Michael's black shirt and boxers and had enough time to look at myself in the mirror now, worrying about my makeup. I didn't want to wake up in the morning with, *shiver*, raccoon eyes.
So I padded out of Michael's bedroom to the kitchen, where, thank God, I found coconut oil. The good old-fashioned natural makeup remover Tina's mom, Mrs. Hakim Baba swears by. I returned with the bottle just in time as Michael opened his bathroom door. I moved past him as he quickly advised me that the toothbrush on the counter was for me to use. All I have to say is thank God for Michael's spare toothbrush. I couldn't look him in the face with a day-old morning breath. I'd just have him take me home now if that were the case.
Once my face was spotless of makeup, my teeth cleaned, my bladder emptied, and the whore's bath, as Grandmère calls it, that I gave myself a once over with a washcloth I found in one of his vanity drawers, I was ready to sleep.
When I opened the door, I noticed Michael was on the left side of his bed, already under the covers with what seemed like a thick manual in his hand. Of course, this was what Michael probably considers light reading before bed. He smiled at me from the pages before returning to his book. When I climbed in on the right side, he was earmarking the next page before setting the book on the nightstand and turned off the lamp as I nestled into the covers.
I couldn't see much of anything other than the room having a slight iridescent glow from the moonlight peaking through the curtains of the bulkhead window. I could feel Michael's mattress moving, his weight inching closer to me, and once he was close enough, his hands wrapped around my waist, escorting me into his embrace, making me his little spoon.
I closed my eyes, content, feeling the rise and fall of his chest against my back, but I could sense there was tension lingering in the air when he broke the silence. "Is it true you got rejected everywhere you applied, Mia? Or, were you perhaps exaggerating about what schools you got into?" He inquired.
I sighed heavily. Of course, Michael had to bring up the one thing I failed to accomplish today. How did picking a College become this hard?! Then there was the other matter of telling Michael that I had indeed lied to everyone.
I turned around, my eyes fully adjusted to the darkness. I could see Michael very clearly searching my eyes for answers. "You're not seriously considering attending the University of Genovia, are you?" He looked nervous that he was going to lose me just as he was getting me back.
I exhaled profoundly, admitting, "No. I'm not." It felt freeing telling the truth. So, I confessed, "You're right. I was exaggerating a little, er, a lot about not getting into any Colleges. But you don't have to worry, I am not attending the University of Genovia in the fall."
"I knew it," Michael muttered but cleared his throat and went, "Why did you lie? You know you have amazing friends who support you unconditionally."
"I don't know." I shrugged, unsure why I even said that. It was a lie. Mia's big fat lie number, too many to count now! I did know the reason. "I mean, I do know why I lied. It's Because while everyone was getting into their second-choice colleges, I got accepted to every single one I applied to."
"Wow, every single one, Mia? That's amazing!"
"In theory, yes, but I know for a fact that my SATs were not good enough for some of these Ivy leagues. They only accepted me because I'm a Princess, and having a Princess attend their school would make them look good."
"Oh, come on, what about the colleges that don't look at SATs?"
"I'm still convinced that if I applied under a pen name, I wouldn't have had as many schools lining up, begging me to attend. Hence why I lied."
Michael snorted, "No way, Mia, you're the most amazing writer I know. You at least deserved half of those acceptance letters."
"Gee, thanks, Michael. Only half?" I bit back a light laugh.
"Look, you wanted realism. I'm giving it to you straight. If you applied to Sarah Lawrence, they would have accepted you for your academic achievements. Not only do they have an amazing writing program, but they also have alumni of some of the greatest writers and thinkers of this last century. So if you think about it, you'd fit right in if that's a school you'd want to consider."
I stayed quiet for a few minutes, contemplating Michael's words and reciting the serenity prayer. Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference….
"Mia?"
"Hmm?" I hummed peacefully. I guess my meditation on College had almost made me fall asleep. I didn't need to think more about it because I knew Michael was right deep down. Even back in Freshman year, when Dad mentioned it as a school of choice, Sarah Lawrence had been subconsciously a goal I had in mind. But right then, I couldn't think any more about it. I was so exhausted from the day that sleep was taking over my body.
"Are you falling asleep?"
"Mmmhmm." My eyelids were so heavy now that they felt like fifty-pound lead weights.
"Mia."
I opened my eyes slightly one last time, looking sleepily at Michael's attentiveness.
"Hmm?" I questioned.
He stroked his thumb against my cheek, declaring, "I love you, Mia."
I plastered a warm, drowsy smile, scooting closer and wrapping my arms around his, whispering, "Oh, Michael. I love you so…, so…., so much…." I said, ending with a yawn, using the last bit of my energy, falling into a deep, restful sleep.
When I woke up in the morning, I had no idea what time it was and prayed that we didn't oversleep for my Graduation. When I peeked, my eyes opened towards Michael's nightstand clock, and it read 8:30 a.m. Honestly, it was too early for me even to be waking up, but for some reason, even though I don't even know how late we officially went to sleep, I woke feeling well rested.
I scooted closer to Michael, wanting to catch a few more hours of shut-eye, when I noticed something hard poking my back. I didn't place it immediately until I reached out for it, seeing it was much closer to Michael's groin.
"Oh my God!" I gasped, rolling over and peeking under the covers at his pajama-pitched tent.
When I dropped the covers, a tired, confused Michael focused in on my vision. "Um, hi. Good wooding, I mean, wood morning! Oh my God, I mean, good morning!" I said, nervously stumbling all over my words. To which Michael only lethargically laughed, picking up his side of the covers, looking under, confirming his suspicions about what I'd been so nervous about.
"Wood morning to you too," he said with a light laugh.
"You know I didn't mean to…. You know." I said, pointing at his lower half, to which Michael only sleepily chuckled.
"Ah, this? Sorry it freaked you out. I have no control over my morning wood."
"You don't? Then how do you deal with it?"
Michael smiled and said, "Not what you're thinking, that's for sure."
"What? What do you think I'm thinking of?" I chanted in my head, please don't say masturbate. Please, please don't say I'm thinking about you masturbating, even though I totally am.
"That I rub one out."
Even though I anticipated this response, my eyes widened in shock, and my voice involuntarily took on a high-pitched, squeaky tone as I exclaimed, "Oh my god, noooo! I wasn't thinking that at all!" Michael, however, only gave me an incredulous look, compelling me to admit defeat. "Okay, okay, I totally was... thinking of you, um, doing that."
"Busted, Thermopolis." He said with a wide grin.
I cleared my throat and asked curiously, "Okay, fine, that's what I think, but you said you were going to prove me wrong?"
"Oh right, well, it's simple. I just get up and do morning exercises."
"So that's how you've become like Christian Bale," I muttered so low that I thought he wouldn't be able to hear me, but he did..
"What about Christian Bale?" Michael asked curiously.
"Oh, nothing, I was just thinking so that's how you're all ripped now?"
"Yep, every day, never fail." He said, flexing his arm muscles in front of my face.
"Alright, down boy." I giggled, lowering his strong arm.
Out of the blue, Michael planted a kiss on my lips, but by the way his tongue grazed my mouth, suggesting more, I started feeling a bit overwhelmed from the 0 to 60 kiss, I instinctively pulled away, teasing him, "I thought you had some exercises to do, you know, to deal with that issue?" I questioned, gesturing toward his lower half.
"Who said it was a problem?"
"Oh, I just thought that…Er, never mind."
"Don't get too flustered over there, Thermopolis. I'm only joking."
"Or were you?" I questioned playfully.
"Wasn't I?" Michael bantered.
"Just do your pelvic exercises or whatever you need to do. I'm going back to bed." I started rolling over on my side, pretending to fall back asleep.
"Pelvic exercises? Alright, if you say so!" Michael said with an amused chuckle, then immediately started to hump my side, laughing wholeheartedly.
"Hey, I didn't mean to include me!" I playfully whined.
"Too late," he said, exaggerating his movements even more. I couldn't help but join in with his infectious laughter, and soon we were both clutching our stomachs, doubling over from his stunt.
After we had both settled down, he kissed my temple, excused himself to use the bathroom, and then returned to carry out his fifteen-minute exercise routine, diligently performing lunges, sit-ups, push-ups, and pull-ups.
When he finished, I simply lay there, gazing at him in admiration. He wiped the sweat from his brow and mentioned that he needed a quick shower, but not without extending the offer if I wanted to use it first. I declined, knowing I'd prefer to take a shower once I got back home.
As he showered, my stomach rumbled, prompting me to venture into the kitchen to explore Michael's food options. He wasn't exaggerating when he claimed to have nothing because all the cabinets were bare! Spotting my phone on the coffee table, low on power, I quickly ordered bagels and cream cheese for delivery in thirty minutes or less. Thank God for New York's efficient delivery services!
To pass the time, I scrolled through my messages while slumped on his couch. In the midst of the excitement from the previous night, I had completely forgotten to inform my mother that I wouldn't be coming home, and I had received a few concerned texts from her. Oops. Luckily, her last message, sent at 2:15 a.m., read as follows:
Just got a hold of Lars. See you in the morning. -Mom
I replied back:
Sorry, Mom! I didn't see your messages till now. Hans is picking me up around 11. I'll See you soon.
I couldn't help but wonder what Lars had shared with my mother. Did he mention that I went to Michael's, or did he just reassure her that I was safe? I was certain I'd find out when I got home, along with a likely snarky comment asking how the all-night bowling alley was. I knew my mom didn't want me to have the "typical" Prom night experience of me losing my virginity, but how could I assure her nothing happened when I had gotten into some mischief? Best not to bring it up if she doesn't ask.
I scrolled through a few more messages from Tina, Lana, and Lilly. But I opted not to answer any of them. I'll see them later today, and they'll get the scoop. Or, maybe not. I'm sure I'll eventually tell Tina, but I was all too happy to keep what Michael and I shared last night just between us for now.
While on my phone, I got a tag alert from Facebook. I opened up the browser, and it linked me to the AEHS Facebook group. The most recent picture on the feed was of me and J.P. receiving our crowns as Prom King and Queen.
The caption read: J.P. Reynolds-Abernathy and Mia Thermopolis as our AEHS Prom King and Queen! What an incredible couple to become the next King and Queen, breaking from the jock and cheerleader tradition! Congratulations!
I smiled. God, Prom seemed like an eternity ago. Was it just last night?
I started scrolling through a few more photos of Prom, mostly of random people I was not close with before my phone died. I sighed, looking around Michael's loft, feeling grateful that Prom didn't end as lame as I thought it would.
I got up from the couch and searched for a charger, finding one in the kitchen. When I walked back into the bedroom, Michael was already out of the shower, standing in front of his dresser, shirtless, with only a towel around his waist. I froze mid-stride, staring at his back muscles until he slid on a white shirt and then dropped his towel. I yelped, covering my eyes, hoping I didn't intrude on his privacy. I thought he had heard me come back into the room. Apparently, he had because he was laughing. I opened my eyes, and he told me he had already been wearing his boxers before I returned to the bedroom. I informed him how dirty of a trick that was. But before he could reply, the call box rang.
Perplexed, he gazed at me, and I explained that I had ordered breakfast. A smile crossed his face, and he expressed his gratitude with a simple "Thank you!" He swiftly donned his jeans and rushed to answer the door.
After retrieving and paying for the food, we settled in silence in the living room, savoring our bagels. It was precisely what both of us needed. I hadn't realized how hungry I was until I sank my teeth into that soft, warm bread, generously spread with creamy goodness. A small satisfied moan escaped me, and from the corner of my eye, I caught Michael smirking as he enjoyed his meal too.
After a while, I noticed him gazing at me, so I inquired, "What's on your mind?" Perhaps I had some cream cheese on my chin? Or worse, bagel crumbs wedged between my teeth?!
He shook his head, running a hand through his wet hair. "Sorry, it's nothing. I like seeing you in my clothes. Is that weird?"
I giggled, "Not in the slightest. They are pretty comfortable. Maybe I should wear your clothes more often?"
Michael overemphasized in his contemplation only to shake his head, "On second thought, I'd rather see you naked than clothed."
I playfully smacked him on the arm, "Michael Moscovitz, you haven't even seen me naked yet!"
"Hence the word, yet."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. He was the one who wanted to go slow! He was the one who wasn't going to, as he put it, 'give me a show' last night. So why all of a sudden were we talking about him seeing me naked? That seemed presumptuous of him. I wish I could write that, I replied with a humorous gravitas, but it's me, so no, I didn't. AT ALL! I said, "We'll see."
WE'LL SEE?! Is that going to be my answer for everything these days? Geez, Mia, get a grip!
Fortunately, Michael wasn't phased by my response and playfully winked, saying, "Noted. Code for yes."
"What were we even talking about?" I asked, trying to sidestep the naked topic of conversation.
"Oh, just how incredibly hot you are in my boxers and shirt." He said with an amused twinkle in his eye, scooching closer to me until he was mere inches from my face before claiming his lips with mine. I smoothed my hand over his cheek, savoring the clean cut shave he gave himself this morning. But I have to admit. I wasn't as sure of myself as the night before, so it took a little while to relax into our kiss fully. And once I did, I wrapped my arms around his neck, leaning heavily into it.
It didn't take long for Michael's hands to slide down my back and cradle my butt, practically lifting me, placing me down to sit in his lap.
I pulled back a bit, breaking our kiss, saying his name in warning when I felt his hand roam over the elastic of his boxers. However, my warning didn't stop him from hooking his index and pointer finger in, stretching it back, and making an easy entry for his hand to slide down his briefs.
"Michael!" I gasped in surprise as he cupped his hand over my sex.
"Hmm?" He hummed innocently, kissing his way down my cheek to my neck, pausing every so often to nip at my tender flesh.
With a clear head, I expressed, "I'm not sure about…." but stopped mid-sentence when Michael's middle finger slowly massaged my clitoris.
Alright.
Gameover.
I was now putty in his hands.
But of course, that's when Michael decided to listen and stop, analyzing me in concern. "Not sure about what, Mia?"
I shook my head, "Nothing. Never mind, keep going." I said, wiggling myself on his fingers, encouraging him to continue.
"Oh yeah? You like that?" He questioned me with a smirk as he fluttered his touch over me.
"Yes," I breathlessly gasped.
"Good. Because I like doing this to you, so you better get used to it." He declared while flirting around the entrance to my vagina. "And I will one day have the pleasure of entering here."
Oh my god, if I wasn't wet before, I was now a puddle, quoting Michael from last night. No, I had no idea what he was doing to me, but if he wanted, he could have slid a few digits inside, and I would not have minded! I mean, I might have because I only assume that it would hurt, maybe? I don't know; I have not tried it myself, and tampons seem to be a hit or miss with me. All I'm saying is he had his opportunity at that moment and didn't take it. I'm glad because he was not holding back soon after and had me writhing in his lap, wiggling and squirming as he worked at my bundle of nerves. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over me until I practically screamed I was coming. I wouldn't say it compared to last night's climax; that was on a whole other level of ecstasy, but it was way better than I could ever do.
Once I came, I placed my forehead against his, panting as I sat in his lap, trying to catch my breath. Michael kissed me and notified me that if I was going to make it to my Graduation on time, I should start getting ready.
I pecked him on the lips and reluctantly tore myself away from him. I questioned the importance of Graduation from his bedroom as I changed, leaving the door open a smidge to talk to him while he sat in the living room. Did I really need to go? The answer, of course, is yes. But who cared about Graduation when I could be in Michael's arms right now?! Michael only reassured me that I could be in his arms for the rest of our lives, and my high school graduation only happens once in my lifetime. So yeah, there's my answer. I can be in his arms for the rest of my life!
EEEEEEEEEEE!
After I changed back into my Prom dress, I was ready to meet Han's downstairs. But before we left, Michael paused me at the threshold of his door, holding me close, "I hope you had an unforgettable Prom night, Mia."
I eagerly nodded, stating, "Oh, Michael, it was the most fantastic night of my life. I couldn't have asked for a better night. Thank you." I pecked him on the lips.
"Well, if you say so. Your expectations for Prom I seem to remember were pretty high."
"No, no. It was perfect. I wouldn't change anything," I assured him. Then, shifting the topic, I added, "Well, I think it's about time I graduate from high school, don't you?"
Michael nodded, a grin spreading across his face. "Yeah, finally," he declared, squeezing my hand while he locked up.
So yeah, that was Prom night!
More on the blowjob blowout later.
And now as Jayne, from Firefly, would say, I'll be in my bunk.
A/N: Hey everyone! Happy October! I'm sorry it has been such a long time since I last posted. Life has been kicking my butt. This year has been a doozy so I've been so grateful for all of your kind words and patience for my slow chapter releases! I broke my finger a few months ago and I wasn't able to type or write for at least two months.
Also, last week I got really sick and found out that it was Covid! Yep, finally after three years I got sick with Covid. (But you guys benefited from me being sick since I re-read book 10 (My comfort book) while I was deep in the sickness.) Thankfully I'm not as sick as I was, so I was able to knock this chapter out in a few days. Though, I'm still testing positive, so who knows, maybe another chapter will come out quickly too. I honestly haven't opened the doc for the next chapter in a long time, so I don't know how rough it is, so no promises from me yet!
Anyway, this chapter is not bated and I hope it isn't too rough for you guys. I thought it turned out pretty OK without a second pair of eyes, and maybe that's just the Covid talking? I hope not.
Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed! Thank you so much again for reading!
And as always, Comments and kudos are life! 3 (and I will be better about keeping up with them too I just forget to check because I just don't think I'll get any and then BAM I have a few and I'm so touched! THANK YOUUUUU!) 3
