𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: policeman!michael jackson x f!reader (au)
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: speeding along the freeway, a policeman pulls you over with a punishment in mind.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: smut, 18+, p-in-v, creampie, fingering, car sex, semi-public sex, mean!mike, groping (consented), corrupt police officer? but readers into it, use of pet names ‘sweetheart’ ‘baby’ …is this too freaked out?
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: that pic of him brought this idea straight into my sick mind …enjoy! btw i do not condone speeding, it’s a very dangerous and reckless thing to do which can injure/end the lives of many, including yourself—so drive safe! i lowk got lost in the sauce whoopsies …this ain’t for everyone but i had fun tehehe
82MPH in a 70 probably wasn’t the wisest idea you’d ever had.
It was late—2am to be exact—and you’d just finished a gruelling, tiring shift at the diner, and were ready for the sweet haven that was your bed. There wasn’t a car in sight—full beams illuminating the road ahead of you, the only thing visible was dust, straw that had escaped from the back of a truck, lingering on the ground, and the occasional litter that shot up into the air from the wind that your beat-up Toyota blasted past it.
You were naive, though, to believe that late into this Saturday evening, on July 4th weekend, prompting your later-than-usual finish, that a certain black Chevrolet Caprice wouldn’t be hiding in the shadows to find a reckless law-breaker such as yourself. The thankful thought to slow down never hit you as you cruised along, completely forgetful to the fact that Police often roamed around later than usual on a busier, popular weekend such as this one.
But, not to worry—you were soon reminded!
Red and blue blasting lights consumed your vision in your rear-view mirror, as well as a patronisingly infamous siren screaming at you into the quiet night, as you whizzed past a hidden vehicle behind a cluster of trees.
“Fuck! Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck—“ You panicked instantly, pressing on the brake to slow down to a comfortable 68MPH, before the familiar Police car caught up to your speed, tailing behind you closely.
The sirens never let up, neither did the lights, and that only meant one thing—Pull over.
“Oh, fuck, shit, shit, shhhhiiit!”
Panicked adrenaline pumped through you instantly—hands shaking as you indicated right, pulling over messily to an old dirt lay-by area, the gravel crunching under your tires as you slowed to a stop. The sleek ‘81 Chevrolet joined you—parking a few metres behind you, for safety precautions, the sirens finally halting.
“Don’t panic, don’t panic—breathe, breathe, breathe.” You affirmed to yourself, closing your eyes briefly to focus on your breathing, hands trembling in your lap as you prayed for a humble, generous Officer that would show you mercy.
In your right wing-mirror, you gazed anxiously, awaiting the Officer to exit their car, and ruin your night with a $75 ticket. But, as the luckiest lady you were, a tall, slim, young male emerged from the car—adjusting his belt, adorned with a .38 Special service revolver hanging along his upper-thigh, and a flash-light, that was being pulled from its sleeve, and flicked on as he approached your car.
Bingo!
You knew exactly how to get out of this one.
With swift, nimble fingers, you popped open the top three buttons of your pink blouse, ‘Ricky’s Diner’ embroidered on your left breast now folded over to slightly conceal your place of work—before grabbing a handful of your breasts, and pushing then further together in your bra.
A Policeman is a man at the end of the day—and what man can resist a poor lady with her tits out in the middle of the night!
You jumped slightly as the hard plastic of his flashlight banged against your window. Your head flew in the direction of the noise, and swallowed thickly as you reached for the lever, winding down the mucky glass slowly.
“Licence and registration, please.”
Your heart stopped as you met the dark eyes of the Policeman in front of you—this was about to get real good. He was ethereal—quite possibly the most beautiful man you’d ever laid eyes on, staring broodily down at you. For a second, his gaze flickered as it met your own, the corners of his mouth twitching up into a smug smirk, as his eyes shamelessly dropped to your exposed cleavage, before trailing back up to your eyes.
Flirting was going to be real easy when he looked like that.
He was dressed in a dark, fitted navy long-sleeve shirt that hugged the curve of his biceps deliciously, paired with deep black trousers, and black boots on his large feet. Alongside the matching navy blue peaked cap upon his trained set of dark curls on his head, a twinkling silver badge, with ‘LAPD’ etched into its shape, rest upon his clothed left breast, and on the other side a nameplate above the right pocket that read ‘M.JACKSON’—He looked edible.
“Evening, Officer Jackson.” You started, eyes never leaving his own as you dug through your glovebox, “What’s the reasoning for this?”
“Don’t play dumb with me, lil’ lady.” The man breathed out a short laugh, “Licence, now, please.”
“Yes, Sir.” You answered, drawled and sensual, lip coming between your teeth as you handed both documents to him.
“Ma’am, are you aware of how fast you were goin’ back there?” He spoke smoothly, voice laced with a thick accent that you had clenching your thighs together involuntarily.
“No, Officer, I’m sorry …was I going a little too fast?” You feigned innocence, eyelashes fluttering as you cocked your head to the side.
“Just a lil’ bit, ma’am.” Officer Jackson spoke, fighting a smirk at your faux-innocence, “82 in a 70.”
You gasped fakely, “No! Was I really? Oh, well, Officer, I am deeply sorry. Just tryna get home after a long shift, y’know how it is, Sir, hm?”
“I sure do, ma’am, but I stay under the limit.” He shot back smartly, “Just headin’ home after work, were ya?”
“Yes, Sir.” You nodded, gaze still locked on his, “Can’t wait to get home, take off all my tight, sweaty clothes and get in a warm shower.”
You didn’t miss the way his jaw clenched at your words—tongue darting out to wet his lips as his eyes trailing to your conveniently pressed up breasts again, before finally landing on the documents in his grasp. He shon the light of his beaming flashlight directly at the plastic card of your personal information in his hands—vision raking over the numbers and letters.
“Ma’am, are you aware your licence is expired?”
Fuck.
“I—um—“
“Hm? What’s the excuse now, ma’am?” He taunted, the smug smirk finally reaching his lips as he peered down at you.
“I …uh, I wasn’t aware, Officer, I’m sorry. Work’s been hectic, I haven’t had chance to check it.” You spoke, honestly this time.
He hummed suspiciously, eyes once again flickering over your face, chest, and dropping to your short skirt that danced along your upper thighs, exposing the skin to his wondering eyes under the spotlight of his light.
“Where’d you say you worked again?” Officer Jackson pressed, cocking an eyebrow as he stared at your provocative outfit.
“I didn’t, Sir.”
“Is that a refusal to answer Police questioning?”
Shit—what?
“No—no! I work at Ricky’s, down on 4th.” You answered honestly, “Worked there for 5 years now.”
“Ah, I know it. Opposite the KFC, right?”
You giggled genuinely, “Yes, that’s the one. Been real hard gettin’ customers with such a big chain across the street.”
He hummed again, more of a satisfied noise this time, allowing a small smile to grow on his face, “Well, you’re outta luck, girl, ‘cause I love KFC.”
“Well, if you stopped by some time I could show you some real cooking.” And the charm was back on—game time!
With an elbow on the window, your hand pressed under your chin, and a sweet, toothy smile—you put the magnitude of your flirting to its maximum.
“I see what you’re doin’, ma’am.” He started, the smirk, however, never leaving his face, “Y’know it’s a felony offence to attempt to seduce your way out of a citation?”
“ …Uh—“
“Ma’am, can you step out of the vehicle for me, please?”
Well, shit. The idea that just because he was hot, that he’d succumb to your devious flirting was a stupid one. That citation, and even an arrest with a court date scheduled, had your name written all over it now.
You complied—switching off the engine, and popping the door open to swing your legs out. Hitting the gravel road, your legs shook in panic as your undecided fate lay in the hands of the painfully attractive man before you, who was now eyeing you up and down slowly—taking in your slightly trembling frame, clad in your matching pink blouse and skirt, and black kitten heels over your pedicured toes.
“Little slutty for a diner, hm?”
You gasped softly—the nonchalance and causality of his crude words hit you suddenly, your mouth falling ajar.
“Excuse me? Who do you think you’re talking to like tha—“
“Ma’am, there’s no need to get aggressive.” He interrupted, the smile permanent on his face, as a hand came out in front of him, “If you don’t calm down, I’ll have to detain you.”
“What the fuck? Detain me? For what?”
“Two felonies—speeding and expired license.” Officer Jackson recalled, “And possibly aggravation towards a Police Officer.”
“You just called me a slut, Sir, I—“
“Ma’am, I told you to calm down already.” Oh, this guy was playing a real sick game right now, “This is your last warning.”
You scoffed, words failing you as you eyed the man in-front of you. You weren’t sure whether he was a seriously corrupt Police Officer who strived off making money and arrests to innocent, vulnerable women, or an aroused, perverted fiend just like yourself. And with the way he was licking his lips, wetting the skin, as he gazed dreamily at your exposed chest—you were sure it was the latter.
And you were more than into it.
“I’m so sorry, Sir,” You pouted, welling up faux-tears in your eyes as the flirtatious charm sprang back into life, “I’m just so nervous—feel my heart, it’s beatin’ right outta my chest.”
Without giving him any time to process your next move, your hand clasped around his extended hand, and pressed it directly against your bare chest—deliberately smushing his dark brown palm into the plush of your breasts.
“See? You just make me so nervous, Officer.”
“Turn around.”
The gruffness of his usual soft tone made you widen your eyes suddenly—lip coming back between your lips, as you willingly turned around. Your heart hammered loudly in your chest—whether it was genuine nerves or the thrill of being so close to such an attractive man, you weren’t sure—probably both.
“Just a mandatory pat-down.” He spoke lowly, his chest mere inches from your back as he stepped closer, his voice dropping to a low grumble behind your head, “Do I have your consent, ma’am?”
“Yes, Officer.” You breathed, voice shaken as you braced yourself for his hands against your body, trembling in ecstatic anticipation.
“Good girl.”
He didn’t miss the way you gasped—breath catching in your throat as he chuckled darkly. Your eyes fluttered shut as his hands met your tensed shoulders, rubbing the skin quickly—his hands were warm and large, covering substantial surface area of your arms as he made his way down. His hands smoothed down your back slower this time, sliding to follow the curve of your waist, and around your middle—fingers curling over the plush of your stomach. By the time he crouched down, hands patting over your exposed legs, prickling with goosebumps, you had been biting your lip so hard you tasted blood—it had been a long time since you’d been touched, by anyone, let alone being pat down by a divine man such as the one behind you.
“Oh!”
The word left you before you could stop yourself as his two large palms cascaded over the round of your behind—each cupping a cheek of your ass, kneading gently. He could easily play it off as attempting to feel for any weaponry, but the way he was toying with the plushness of the skin was hard not to interpret as sexual.
“Need me to stop, lil’ lady?” He whispered, breath hot against the back of your ear as he rose to his feet once more, hands now sliding across your lower back, and back to your waist.
“N—No, it’s okay. Keep going.”
God, you sounded pathetic—your voice broken and wobbling, chest heaving as his thumb trailed across the side of your breasts, your jaw instantly clenching at the sensation.
Soon enough, his hands cupped the swell of your clothed breasts—palms gliding over your now pebbled nipples, fully erect from the sensual touching. Involuntarily, your back arched into the touch, a quiet, almost inaudible mewl left your gnawed lips—You froze. As did he.
In the silence of the dark freeway, it was hard to miss the way you just moaned at a Police Officer groping your breasts for a mandatory search. Even the quietest of whimpers hit his perked up ears, his hands stilling around the mounds.
“Well, well.” He murmured, voice husky, “What are we gonna do with you, girl?”
Another noise left you as his thumb, deliberately, trailed against your left nipple—the pebbled nub rolling over the pad tantalisingly slow.
“Officer, I—“
“Shhh, it’s okay.” He whispered, chest pressing against your back, hands still tracing over your clothed breasts, “I think a strip-search is in order, I’m not satisfied you’re not concealing any weapons.”
You swallowed thickly, turning around slowly, his hands leaving your chest, your blown-out pupils meeting his own. Your hands, now shaking from anticipatory excitement, reached for your shirt—painfully slowly popping open each button, the blouse coming increasingly more loose as you finally reached the last button. Even as you slid the shirt from your body, your lacy, black bra on full display, your gazed never slipped from his face—even when his vision locked on your exposed breasts. His lip, just like yours had been, was caught tightly between his teeth, as if he was fighting every urge to not break any code or agreement he’d signed once he started the job—but, he was already too far gone. Especially when you unzipped your skirt at the back, and let it fall to the floor in a swift drop—now, half-naked in your matching undergarments and high-heels.
“Well,” He croaked, throat going extremely dry as his eyes raked over your bare frame, “I didn’t say leave those on.”
“You want me to go all the way, Officer?” You breathed, licking your lips.
“Hmm.” Officer Jackson hummed, nodding briskly.
Your hands crawled behind you, fiddling with the clasp, before popping it open—letting it fall off your arms. You fought a grin as Officer Jackson’s breath hitched in his throat—teeth grinding together as he eyed your swell breasts, nipples hardened from equal parts the cold, crisp air, and the arousal that flowed through your veins like electricity—pooling in the panties you were now sliding down your legs.
You didn’t even care that you were stark naked in front of the stranger before you—pussy and tits in his complete vision as he eye-fucked you, hunger dazzling in his eyes even in the dark.
“This better, Sir?”
“Much.” He mumbled, nodding slowly, “But, a physical exam is still required.”
“And how does that work, Officer?” You questioned, feigning stupidity—you knew exactly what that meant, and every fibre of your being was praying to God that he’d take those large hands of his and fuck you senseless with them.
He stepped closer, the intoxicating scent of his cologne, deep and musky, danced around in your nostrils—the smell dizzying and sending you breathless as he towered over you. Up close, you really got to look at him—he had dangerously gorgeous brown eyes, almost black from how blown-out how pupils were in desire, stunning brown skin, baby-hairs smoothed to his forehead, just before his neatly-kept dark curls, as well as a small, blooming moustache atop his upper, plump lip.
His hand dipped, smoothing under the back of your left knee, and raised your leg—resting your levitated leg on the sliver of your exposed tire. This position was vulnerable and open—your legs now deliciously spread, your arousal painting your thighs as you awaited his next move.
“This is mandatory, y’see?” He drawled, a hand crawling up your inner thigh slowly, “Can’t miss a single spot.”
“I understand, Sir.” You breathed, “You can search anywhere you want.”
He hummed once again, the noise rumbling in the back of his throat, as his finger came in direct contact with the wetness soaking your thighs. He swallowed thickly, pressing himself closer to your body that radiated a scorching heat—rolling a familiar bulge into your other thigh. You gasped at the feeling of his stiffened dick beneath his slacks, a bodily reaction purely from your nakedness—your own body reacting similarly, more slick drooling from your bare sex.
“Consented, right, sweetheart?”
You blushed harshly, your cheeks glowing a deep red as his middle finger grazed along your folds, “Yes, Sir.” You forced out through gritted teeth, fighting every urge not to beg for his fingers.
That calculated logic went straight out the window the second his finger pushed past your soaked lips, and slipped inside your wet heat—the impressive length of his slender digits reaching so deep that submissive whines fell past your plump lips.
“Jesus.” He groaned lowly, his facade faltering as you clenched around his finger, your slick arousal coating his digits, dripping down his knuckles.
A second finger joined the first, and instantly began a gruelling pace—curling against your front wall to abuse the sweet spot inside you that your hand flying to his wrist, acting as an anchor, as he worked you open with his fingers.
“Officer!”
“Shh, just take it.” Officer Jackson whispered, rolling his hips forward, his erection rubbing against the bare of your thigh as he repeatedly nudged your G-spot, “‘M just doin’ my job, right?”
You nodded, eyes rolling to the back of your head as pleasure consumed you, your brain going numb, “You’re such a good Police Officer, Sir.”
“Yeah?” He breathed, hips stuttering at the praise, fighting a groan that threatened to slip from his lips, “Y’doin’ so good, sweetheart.”
You moaned, louder and shamelessly, head lolling back, eyes fluttered shut as his thumb grazed upwards—now rolling your throbbing clit along the pad, doubling the pleasure. Your fingers tightened around his wrist, the other scratching the paint from your bonnet as the lewd sound of your squelching cunt filled the silent air—alongside your carefree whines and whimpers.
“Oh—Oh, God, I—Oh, fuck, Officer, I’m gonna—“
“Yeah? You gonna give it to me? Gonna make me proud?” Officer Jackson growled, leaning forward to brush his lips against the shell of your ear, his breath warm against the skin, goosebumps blooming once again over your skin at the sensation.
You cried out, louder than you expected, turning your head to capture his lips in a fierce, frantic kiss as you released—moaning loudly into his mouth as your hand flew to his face, cupping his warm cheek, as your tongue danced into his mouth. He groaned into your mouth—teeth grazing your bottom lip as he french-kissed you swiftly, not wanting to waste a single second apart from you as your pussy spasmed around his fingers—creamy release drooling down his hand, his pace slowing as you came down from your high.
“Not deep enough.” He panted against your lips, hands, still coated in your slick, fiddled with his belt, unbuckling it quickly, “Don’t know if you’re still a threat.”
You whined, lapping into his mouth desperately as he forced his blacks slacks and impossibly tight boxers down to his mid-thighs, his hard, thick dick springing free from its restraints. He trailed kisses from your mouth, to your hot cheek, to the crook of your neck—nipping and sucking at the skin, marking it in deep, dark purple lovebites. Meanwhile, his right hand fisted his stiff cock—pumping himself, allowing pretty, flustered noises to escape into your flesh, as he prepped himself.
“Turn back around, baby.” Officer Jackson commanded, a large hand splaying across your lower back, signaling you to move.
You did so quickly and frantically—your heeled foot meeting the gravel once more as your bare chest hit the cool of your metal bonnet, hissing as the crisp, coldness rolled against your sensitive nipples. The iciness didn’t last long as Officer Jackson pressed himself against you—warm chest flush against your chest, as his twitching dick, drooling with pre-cum, slid between your glistening folds.
“Needa’ see if you’re gonna hurt me, baby. You wouldn’t do that, right? I’m such a good cop after all, hm?”
“Never, never—mmh!—please, please!” You heaved, nails dragging along the bonnet, scratch marks indented into paint as the head of his dick caught at your entrance.
A string of profanities left your lips as he slid inside—the size of him knocking the air out of your lungs as he pushed himself as deep as he could go in one fell swoop. Your name, one he’d memorised from your licence, fell from his mouth, a sensual, lewd, low growl as your tight pussy constricted around him, accommodating the stretch.
“God, y’so fuckin’ tight.” Officer Jackson breathed, heart hammering against your shoulder blade, as he pressed a soft, gentle kiss to the side of your head, “You gonna be a good girl and comply, hm?”
“Yes! Yes, Sir—do what you want with me.”
Needy and desperate—that exactly how you sounded, and exactly what you were. Dying for him to move, to feel the drag of his throbbing dick against your spongy walls, abusing the sensitive spot inside you that had you seeing stars without even needing to look up at the night sky.
And that’s exactly what it did.
With every thrust, his hips snapping against yours ruthlessly, you screamed—the dark blue paint of your Toyota physically coming up under your nails as he pounded into you relentlessly. His name, ‘Sir’ and ‘Officer’ repeatedly spilled from your mouth—begging him for more, deeper, harder, faster, as he took you on the hood of your car. He was unforgiving—just as a Police Officer should be, despite his irresponsible, corrupt ways, by ploughing into you with such fever you couldn’t help but cry out into the night.
“Fuck, girl, y’pussy’s squeezin’ me so hard. What’cha tryna hide from me?” He teased, his tongue darting out to trace your earlobe, “You got a concealed weapon I don’t know about? You tryna get arrested, sweetheart?”
“No! No! Swear—mmmhh!—“ You exclaimed, breath ragged and uneven, as he drove in harder, angling his hips to repeatedly slam against your anterior vaginal wall, an area that had your second, more powerful orgasm, creeping up your spine.
“Mm, I don’t trust you.” Officer Jackson taunted, his pace never letting up as his hands climbed up your front, one hand cupping your breast, rolling your right nipple between his nimble fingers, and the other slipping between your conjoined legs to rub your sensitive clit.
The triple sensation, sending the pleasure to another level, had you blabbering nonsensical sentences—his surname, not knowing his first, along with cries of ecstasy, mingling with the shlap! shlap! shalp! of his hips against your recoiling ass.
“Oh! Fuck, fuck, Officer, ‘m gonna cum!”
Your voice broke loudly, your hips bouncing back to meet his thrusts, forcing him to the hilt, as your second orgasm hit you like a freight train—the overwhelming euphoria washing over you violently.
“Fuck!” Officer Jackson spat, hand tightening around your breast, as his hips stuttered at your pussy clamping down on him harshly, “So fuckin’ tight—should be fuckin’ illegal the way you’re squeezin’ me, baby, fuck!—“
With a low, loud grumble of a moan, the ferocious pounding sped up, if even at all possible with the speed he was fucking you, ending with a crescendoing, harsh thrust—burying himself to the brim, the tip of his flushed cock nudging your cervix, as he spilled inside you—warm, thick, spurting cum flooding your convulsing pussy, whining softly as you shook from the aftershock of your orgasm, as well as the sensation of him flooding your womb.
For a moment, no one moved—the ragged, broken heave of your breaths being caught surrounded the quietening atmosphere, his hips still pressed firmly against your ass as he softened inside you. His hand dropped from your breast, and to your hip as he finally eased himself out of your pussy, ignoring the way you whined at the loss of fullness. A whispered curse fell from his mouth as a dollop of his release dripped from your sex, and onto the gravel beneath your feet.
“Here.”
You craned your head at the sound of his gruff voice, still pressed against the bonnet, legs weak and shaking, watching as he handed your clothes to you—now coated in thick, dusty dirt. You took your blouse and skirt from him, holding it close to your exposed chest, feeling suddenly too vulnerable for your liking, as he crouched down to grab your panties.
“Leg.”
His voice was short and simple as he peered up at you from his bent knees—holding your panties open for you step into you. You tried to ignore the way your heart clenched at the sweetness of his actions, as you slipped your feet into each hole of the lacy panties, smiling softly as he slid them up your body, and around your bottom half once again. He did the same routine with your skirt, letting you slowly stand into it, and sliding it up your body, zipping it back up gently. You opted for no bra—just sliding the blouse over your chest, and doing up a few buttons—too fatigued from the feverish sex to do anymore.
Officer Jackson cleared his throat once he’d risen to his feet once again, after retrieving the flashlight he’d thrown the floor previously, tucking his softened dick back into his trousers, buckling them up again, smoothing out the material, before looking back at you.
“Now, I’m gonna let you off just this once, but get that licence renewed ASAP, miss.” He ordered, the stern, authoritative tone returning, pointing a finger at you, the same one that had been deep inside you a few minutes prior, “And slow down.”
“Yes, Sir, will do.” You smiled, the post-orgasm buzz consuming your body as you succumbed to the hazy feeling, “Thank you.”
He hummed, checking his watch, cursing, and wetting his lips, “Gotta head off, got another criminal like yourself to catch.”
You giggled, “I understand.“
You waited for him to turn on his heel and speed off in his Caprice—but, he kept his feet planted where he stood, before he lunged forward, his hands cupping your cheeks as he smashed his lips against yours once again. You gasped in surprise into his mouth, your hands darting to his forearms as you kissed him back frantically.
He pulled away with a sharp breath, “I’m Michael.” His voice a gentle whisper, “Here.” He let his hands fall from your face to dig into his back pocket, retrieving a small, rectangle piece of cardboard, before handing it to you, “I gotta go, but drive safe, girl.”
Without waiting for your response, he rushed away, turning on his heel and jogging towards his car—climbing in quickly, putting it immediately into drive, and speeding off into the dark. As the red and blue lights, one’s that originally had you panicking and sweating, now had you smiling deeply at the crude memories, sped off—you climbed back into your own car, flicking on the dim, amber roof lighting, and glancing down at the card. You laughed softly, running a hand over your warm face, clenching your thighs together as another dollop of his release slipped from your pussy, into your panties—what a night.
synopsis: after a long day of shopping and gossiping, janet finds out you’ve haven’t had your first kiss yet, what will she do about it?
contents: 18+ MDNI, softdom!janet, sub!reader, kissing, teasing through clothes, persuasive janet, reader is reluctant at first, jealous janet, thigh riding, use of ‘baby’ as a nickname, no use of y/n, proofread, ect
a/n:: debut fic kinda nervy, sorry if my writing is ass i apologize in advance, just wanted to get my lesbian ass dirty thoughts out of my head and on this blog instead.worked long days and nights trying to perfect this.
The afternoon sun filtered through the large windows of the upscale boutique, casting a warm glow over racks of designer clothes. You and Janet had been best friends for years now, ever since a mutual acquaintance introduced you at a charity event. She was everything; iconic, fierce, elegant, and disarmingly funny in private. Today, like so many other days, you two were out shopping, arms linked as you browsed through silk blouses and tailored pants.
“Oh, honey, that color would look incredible on you,” Janet said, holding up a deep emerald green top against your chest. Her fingers brushed lightly over the fabric near your collarbone, lingering just a second longer than necessary. “It brings out your eyes. Way better than anything that guy you’ve been playing with would pick out.”
You rolled your eyes with a laugh, trying to ignore the familiar edge in her voice. “His name is Andre, Jan. And he’s actually got pretty good taste and a sense of style. Ooo and he has very good music selection, he sent me a mixtape the other day and it has some bangers on it.” you playfully scoff.
“Mmm, a mixtape. How original,” Janet replied, her tone sweet but laced with something sharper. She hung the top back up with a little too much force. “Bet it’s all trap beats and generic love songs. You deserve someone who knows real music, baby. Not some… hobbyist.” You nudged her shoulder playfully as you moved to the next rack. “You’re such a snob. We’re just talking, okay? It’s not even serious yet.”
“Yet,” Janet echoed, smiling, but her eyes didn’t quite match the curve of her lips. “That’s the key word. Come on, let’s try these on. I want to see you in something that actually turns heads.”
The rest of the shopping trip was pure fun—laughing in the fitting rooms, modeling ridiculous outfits for each other, sneaking bites of the frozen yogurt you grabbed midway through. Janet bought you the green top despite your protests, and you insisted on getting her a pair of statement earrings that caught the light perfectly against her skin. By the time you left the mall, bags swinging from your hands, the earlier passive-aggressive jabs about Andre felt like distant background noise.
That night, after dinner at her place. She had a beautiful, sprawling house tucked away in a private neighborhood. you decided on a whim to stay over. “It’s late anyway,” you said, curled up on her massive sectional couch in comfy pajamas. “And I don’t feel like driving back. You mind?”
Janet’s smile was immediate and radiant. “Mind? Girl, please. I love having you here. Makes the house feel less empty.” She grabbed a blanket and tossed it over both of you, scooting closer so your legs touched under the fabric.
You were halfway through a drama series when a particularly intense kissing scene came on screen. The actors melted into each other, all passionate hands and parted lips. You felt your cheeks warm slightly.
Janet glanced at you, smirking. “Whew. They’re really going for it. Reminds me of my first kiss—backstage after a show, some cute dancer. Total disaster at first, but we figured it out quick.” She laughed softly. “What about you? Spill. Who was your first? Was it awkward? Sweet? Tell me everything.”
You went quiet, suddenly very interested in picking at a loose thread on the blanket. “Hey?” Janet prompted, tilting her head. “Hello? Earth to my favorite girl. Don’t leave me hanging.” You shifted uncomfortably. “I… haven’t had one yet.”
The silence that followed was heavy. Janet stared at you, her eye brows shooting up. “Wait. What? You’re serious?”
“Yeah,” you mumbled, avoiding her gaze. “I just… never happened. I’ve been focused on other stuff, I guess.” Janet sat up straighter, turning fully toward you. “Baby, look at me. You’re telling me no one has ever kissed those lips? That’s insane. You’re stunning. Like, drop-dead, ‘stop traffic’ beautiful. Men should be lining up.”
You shrugged, embarrassed. “It just hasn’t come up. Andre and I haven’t even been on a date really. Just texting.”
“He hasn’t even tried to kiss you yet?” Janet’s voice dripped with mock disbelief, but there was real heat behind it. “He must be scared. Probably can’t handle you. One look at you and he knows he’d fumble the bag so bad he’d need a refund.”
“Janet!” You grabbed a decorative pillow and hurled it at her, laughing despite yourself. She caught it easily and lobbed it back, grinning wickedly. “What? It’s true! Dude’s probably intimidated by all that beauty. But if you want to play like that, fine by me!!”
The pillow fight escalated quickly. You both scrambled across the couch, giggling like teenagers. Janet was faster, stronger from years of performances, and soon she had you pinned beneath her. Her body hovered over yours, thighs straddling your hips, hands pressing your wrists gently into the cushions. Her hair fell around her face like a curtain and her eyes sparkled with mischief.
“Got you,” she whispered, breath warm against your cheek. You squirmed beneath her, still laughing. “Okay, okay, you win!” Janet didn’t move. Instead, her expression softened into something more intense. “You know… I can teach you how to kiss. Just in case things get steamy with Andre or whoever. Practice makes perfect, right?”
Your heart stuttered. “Jan… that’s not- I mean, wouldn’t that be like cheating?” you look away, kind of ashamed if so.
She chuckled low, still on top of you, her weight comforting and electrifying at once. “Cheating? Baby, you’re not dating him. You said it yourself. you’re just talking. This is just… education. Between best friends. No strings attached.”
You hesitated, biting your lip. Her eyes were so close, so dark and inviting. The air between you felt charged. “I… I don’t know.”
“Come on,” she coaxed, her voice soft. “One little lesson. I promise I’ll be gentle.” Her thumb brushed lightly over your wrist where she held it. Reluctantly, you nodded. “Okay. Just… teaching.”Janet’s smile was almost immediate, barely can contain her excitement. She leaned down, her lips hovering just above yours. “Relax. Follow my lead.”
The first touch was super light. her lips brushing yours, soft and warm. She tasted faintly of the wine you’d shared earlier. You froze for a second, then tried to mimic her, tilting your head slightly. Janet hummed approvingly, deepening the kiss with expert patience. Her tongue traced the seam of your lips, asking for entry, and when you parted them, she slipped inside.
It was nothing like you had imagined. Heat pooled low in your belly as she explored your mouth, coaxing your tongue to dance with hers. The kiss grew hungrier. Janet’s body pressed more firmly against yours, one of her legs sliding between your thighs. She shifted, pressing her thigh right against your core through the thin fabric of your pajamas.
“See? You’re a natural,” she murmured against your lips before diving back in. The make out turned wet, open mouthed kisses that left you breathless. Your hands found her waist, gripping the soft material of her tank top. Janet rocked her leg against you deliberately. “Grind on me, baby. Like this.” She guided your hips with one hand, encouraging you to move. “That’s it. Feels good, doesn’t it?”
You whimpered into her mouth, the friction building quickly. You were inexperienced and the pressure of her toned thigh against your clit was overwhelming. You rolled your hips desperately, chasing the sensation while your mouths stayed locked. tongues sliding, lips sucking, and breaths mingling.
“I bet he can’t make you feel like this, huh?” Janet whispered between kisses, her voice husky. “All that texting and no action. Poor thing. But I can. I know exactly what you need.”
“Janet…” you gasped, grinding harder, faster. The pleasure coiled tight and sudden in your core. You’d never felt anything like it. someone else’s body and the control she had over you. It snuck up on you like a wave crashing without warning.
Your orgasm hit hard. You cried out against her lips, body shuddering as you came on her thigh, soaking through your panties. Your hips stuttered, thighs clamping around her leg as waves of pleasure rolled through you. When it subsided, Janet pulled back slightly, eyes wide with surprise and clear arousal. A slow, delighted laugh escaped her. “Did you just cum? Just from a little hump and some kisses? Oh my god, baby…”
Your face burned with embarrassment. “Shut up!” You pushed at her shoulders, scrambling out from under her. “I—I need to… bathroom. Sorry.” You legit bolted with your legs still shaking. you headed straight to the guest bathroom down the hall. The door clicked shut behind you, and you leaned against the sink, staring at your flushed reflection. Your lips were swollen, hair messy, and the evidence of what just happened was still warm between your thighs.
Outside, you heard Janet’s voice, soft but teasing through the door. “You okay in there? Don’t be embarrassed. That was the hottest thing I’ve seen in a long time. Come back out, beautiful. We’re not done talking about this… or practicing.” You took a deep breath, heart still racing. Part of you wanted to hide forever. The other part was still tingling from her touch. you wondered what else your best friend could teach you tonight.
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