ᝰ.ᐟ mature!michael thigh riding humiliation kink happy marriage size kink (if you squint) mentions of ed and michael just loving his wife so much that he let you get off on him.
+18 mdni you were known as michaels beautiful wife. a title that felt less like a label and more like a permanent state of grace. in the frantic, neon-soaked landscape of the 90s, you were the "it" girl, the name that rippled through every room. comedians made jokes about his luck, and a-list celebrities would pause mid-interview just to mention how he finally looked settled because of you. you carried a quiet, effortless elegance, a magnetic confidence that drew men in, yet you remained inherently gentle, a soft-spoken warmth that acted as the perfect counterbalance to the whirlwind of the king of pop.
your marriage was the world’s favorite headline, anchored by the iconic, million-dollar diamond that caught the flash of every camera lens. but to you and michael, that rock was just a symbol of the two decades you had spent tethered to one another. your love story wasn't a sudden spark, it was a slow-burn evolution, beginning when he was just a young man in his twenties, still finding his feet.
you were his constant. you were the one who spent endless, caffeine-fueled hours sitting in the corner of recording studios, becoming the silent backbone to his genius. you were the steadying hand that helped him navigate the complexities of his massive charitable efforts, the one who saw the children in need and knew exactly how to make his resources count.
more than anything, you were his fortress. whenever the press turned vultures, whenever the lights became too blinding or the interviews turned into interrogations, you were the first voice to rise in his defense. when the world tried to tear him apart with rumors and malice, you didn't flinch. you stood on the front lines, refusing to be shaken, preaching his innocence with a conviction that silenced skeptics. you weren't just his partner, you were the only person who saw the man behind the music, and in every room you entered, the world knew that as long as you were by his side, michael was protected.
you were michael’s everything, the center of gravity in a life that was constantly pulling him in a million different directions. he loved you with a devotion that went deeper than skin, cherished every layer of who you were, the woman, the soul, the wife. he spent his life thanking god for the stage and the records, but he knew in his heart that you were the greatest blessing he had ever received.
but even in the sunlight of your marriage, there was the shadow of his old habits. michael had spent a lifetime at war with his own body, his schedule so relentless and his nerves so frayed that he’d often forget food entirely. he’d been painfully thin for as long as anyone could remember, a fragile frame that seemed to mirror his own inner restlessness.
then you arrived, and everything changed. you became his caretaker in the most intimate sense. you were the one who made sure he didn't just survive on coffee and adrenaline, but actually thrived on the meals you prepared with your own hands. you became the gatekeeper of his health, sliding nutritional plates in front of him and leaving little snacks in his path throughout the day just to ensure he stayed fueled.
slowly, the sharp edges of his youth began to soften. he gained a healthy, solid weight, his frame filling out until he was no longer the waif-like boy the world had known, but a man, beefy, substantial, and grounded.
and you absolutely loved every second of it.
there was something intoxicating about the way his clothes fit him now. he would slide into a tailored suit, but the fabric couldn't hide the soft, delicious pudge that peeked through the crisp material of his dress shirt. his thighs, once thin and angular, had thickened into heavy, sturdy pillars. it drove you to distraction. your mind would wander into dangerous territory, imagining him sitting back in a leather armchair, his posture relaxed, while you slowly spread your legs and ground your hips against the solid, satisfying meat of his thigh, feeling every bit of that manliness you had helped him build. it was a physical manifestation of your care, and it was a hunger that you both seemed to share.
you were a blur of needy, desperate motion, completely uninhibited by the luxury surrounding you. you were folded over his thigh, your legs spread wide, the only thing covering your skin being one of his oversized, soft t-shirts and the lace panties that were already ruined, heavy and soaked with your slick. you ground your hips against the firm, muscular meat of his leg, a low, rhythmic friction that was driving you both to the brink of insanity. soft, broken whimpers spilled from your puffy, parted lips, echoing against the quiet comfort of the room.
michael leaned back, his head against the velvet cushion, his large, warm palm anchored firmly on your hip. he wasn't just watching, he was guiding you, his thumb tracing the curve of your bone, helping you find the exact spot where the friction felt like fire.
“tha’s it, mama,” he rasped, his voice thick with a mixture of pride and pure, unadulterated lust. “you’re so beautiful.”
you let out a guttural groan, your back arching as he flexed his thigh muscle directly against your aching clit. the contact was electric, sending a sharp, white-hot jolt through your nervous system. you threw your head back, your hair tumbling over your shoulders as you moved in tight, desperate circles, trying to grind yourself into him. michael bit his bottom lip, his gaze dropping to watch the way your body reacted, the way you were so hungry for him that you couldn't even keep still, riding his leg with a raw, primal intensity that made his heart race.
the bulge in his dress slacks was massive, a straining, undeniable knot of hunger that made the fabric feel like it was about to snap. he watched, mesmerized, as the dark, telltale patch of your slick began to bloom across the fabric of his trousers, marking him, claiming him. your hips started to stutter, your rhythm becoming uneven as that familiar, agonizing heat began to knot tight and heavy in the center of your abdomen.
michael hummed, a low, vibrating sound of encouragement that made your skin prickle. “you feel good, baby? look at you go.”
a whimper of pure, mortified pleasure escaped you, but you were too far gone to care about the embarrassment. you nodded, your eyes fluttering shut as you quickened your pace, chasing that elusive, agonizing pleasure. your mind started to fragment into flashes of white-hot static. your palms, flat against his chest, began to shake, and a sharp, breathless hiccup escaped your throat, signaling that the knot in your stomach was finally ready to snap.
“i can’t believe you, wanting to ride my thigh ‘til you cum,” he teased, his voice a low, gravelly rumble against the quiet.
your toes curled hard against the fabric of the sofa, your eyebrows creasing as you tried to maintain your rhythm through the haze. “s...stop making fun f’me,” you gasped, the words barely audible over your ragged breaths.
“i’m not,” michael clicked his tongue, his expression turning soft and reverent. he leaned back, his chin resting between his index finger and thumb, watching you with an intensity that felt like a physical touch. “i’m admiring my gorgeous wife.”
the way he said it, so proud, so deeply in love, pushed you over the edge. as you chased that final, shimmering wave of pleasure, your hips stuttered, and the tight, agonizing knot in your stomach finally snapped. a wave of relief crashed over you, your sweet, love-slicked juices soaking deep into the fabric of his trousers. your eyes were blown wide, pupils dilated with a mixture of raw lust and the overwhelming love you held for the man beneath you.
michael didn’t wait for you to catch your breath. he reached forward, his large, warm palms firm as they grabbed the soft flesh of your ass, pulling you down and crashing his lips against yours in a hungry, possessive kiss. he tasted your sweetness, his tongue tangling with yours as he held you close, anchoring you against him.
he was yours, completely and utterly, and he wouldn't have it any other way. he would let you use him, take from him, and claim him in any way you desired. because at the end of every long day, he knew the truth, you were his beautiful wife, his everything, and there was nothing he wouldn't do to make you feel as cherished as he made you feel in this moment.
taglist: @califoreigner @dollhabits @jules777777 @holyfujjj / if your not added it’s because I can’t find your blog 🥲
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