wroteclassicaly:

Imagine not being able to sleep and seeking out Michael, your best friend. He’s always able to calm you down. You make your way to his room, acceptance granted. He knows a remedy that he’s craving, starving mad for. You don’t know that you need this, that your appetite has to be sated before you can drift off.

Michael asks you if you’ve ever been licked between your legs. You tell him to stop his bullshit and not to play that with you, of all people.

“I don’t want to play you,” He says, “I want to pleasure you.”

You’re unsure, worked up. Of course he sees you.

He begs to suck on that sweet little clit of yours, the one he has heard you rubbing to thoughts of him. Your body is covered in a blushing flush. Though you agree with coercing promise from that airy, deep voice. Michael spreads your legs, you’re already swollen open, sticky to a shine for him. He buries his face in your thigh and inhales, peppering little kisses that make your leg tremble.

He makes your nerves dissipate the more he has you begging. You find purchase in his long hair as he rolls you over, encouraging you up his face. You seat yourself across that sharp jaw, watching those plump lips become slick by his soaked tongue. He darts it out, wiggling, piercing blue eyes heavy, surrounded by black lakes of arousal. His rings on his fingers, they scratch and scrape against your skin, his strong hands urging you.

You hold your breath as you await that delicious first glide of his warm tongue. He locks your gaze down, watching you through long lashes, cheeks patterned with red. He’s completely fucked out, drinking your creamy offerings. When you come, Michael closes his lips around your clit, working you through it in lighter licks, oh how he knows you love his mouth.

When you’re rolling onto your back, calm and hazy, he strokes his fingertips through you, petting.

Both of you at ease now.