Michael Jackson Imagines Novels & Stories

"I’ve got a better plan this time—one that guarantees his death. We’ll use his wife and sons as bait." "That won’t work," interrupted a new voice from beside them. Both Kyle and Taron turned, startled to see Lucas Middleton. He wore a baseball cap pulled low over his face and dark sunglasses as a disguise. "Lucas Middleton?" Kyle’s jaw dropped. "I’m a big fan of yours."

Offering me his hand again, Michael helps me up, tugging me upright, then unbuttoning his shirt, unbuckling his belt and kicking off shoes, he strips off in swift, economic movements, grinning at me, white against tan. His cock at full mast, but still standing clear, he watches her, shivering and shaking, mouth open as she moans under the kiss of the vibe. "I'm beginning to feel superfluous," he comments. Keeping my voice loud, "That," I reply, "is why nature blessed men with imaginations..."

But I know I love you. .... I want you.... .... I want to be with you.... ***** JAMES Michael peers over my shoulder. "What is that you're doing?" "Haswell invited me to 'let my imagination fly'. I'm doing just that." "Really?" He sits beside me, looking over the sketches I have laid out on the table. "Do you mind?" "Not at all." He riffles through the sheets. "What's this one?" "That is a library-come-public information and internet centre."

“I do,” Jackson replies, nodding once. “Not important right now. Just…let’s get these shadows tucked away, all right? I want you to imagine like…a fishing rod, with all the shadows attached to the line. And now slowly, mentally, just…start to reel that fish in, okay?”

Michael asked. Michael was beginning to feel impatient with him. Just as he was about to voice his frustration, he remembered his current identity. He was disguised as Njord and did not fully understand the relationship between Njord and Jackie yet. He could not risk letting Jackie catch on to anything prematurely since his plan had yet to fully form. “You’re right. Who would want to leave after all these years in Kingzillion Casino?” Jackie teased with a smirk. Michael said nothing more. He did not want to waste any more time talking to Jackie.

Back then, I'd imagined he and I grew up in the same situation and bonded over that. Thinking about basketball made me think back to Michael. Now I wasn't just fantasizing about a pretend Nick, but also a real memory of Michael. His large hands were covering the sides of my face and bringing me closer to him. I could almost feel my lips pressed to him, and I moaned aloud. It echoed around the bathroom and spurred me deeper into my fantasy.

He really has a reason for everything just so that I give him what he wants but still it didn’t help me to stop thinking how embarrassing it is if ever someone caught us here. "Imagine that it's only me and you in this place. I want you to close your eyes and imagine me without clothes, not even a brief or boxer." Michael ordered me and for some unknown reason, I obeyed his order. I closed my eyes and started to think of Michael’s naked body. I can't help but swallow my saliva when I once again remembered his salivating six-pack abs and his big dick that could actually shed every women's panties just by looking at his naked body.

"So this really is the only tattoo you have?" Maggie giggled. "Are you disappointed?" Michael smiled. "Not disappointed, exactly. The way you talked that time…I imagined all sorts of ink in all sorts of places." She looked at him slyly. "You imagined my body?" "I'm a guy. It's what we do." He looked at her curiously. "Is that bad?" "I don't know," Maggie blushed. "It's just that, well, I've imagined being here, in this bed with you, for a long time."

I closed my eyes and thought of Michael as Francis began to suck me off. God...this is so wrong, I thought as I imagined Michael's bright blue eyes staring into mine and his mischievous smile that made my heart skip a beat.

“That sounds like something he wrote.” The room becomes quiet enough for Adrian to hear the faint hum of the climate system above them. For one irrational moment, he imagines Julian in this room. He imagines him leaning back in one of the leather chairs, watching Michael with those direct eyes, finding the weak point in the first three minutes, and smiling because no one else has noticed it yet. Adrian imagines the question Julian would ask and the discomfort it would cause. The thought should not please him. It does. Michael steps closer to the table. “You will not let that man turn you into a public spectacle.”