Michael Jackson Imagines Novels & Stories

inquired the voice. Jack’s grisly hands started to shake. Michael sat up, and told himself to be brave, that he could do this. This is it, he thought. It’s all coming down. It’s now or never. No, no, don’t think of the ocean. No! But he did think of the ocean. Its heavy, cool waves crashed over him. Diana stared into a world in which her father had scribbles for eyes, where her sister laughed next to her during a screening of some stupid movie called Clueless.

Archie rolled his eyes and Melanie scoffs at him. “How ridiculous you can be?” Melanie glare hard at him. “Whatever! Let's hear your song, Michael Jackson in woman form.” Archie teased, earning a glare from Melanie. “I bet you only know him through history.” Melanie scoff. She lifts her right hand to his head brushing his brown hair backwards. “Know who? Who's that?” He asks, not getting her point. Melanie grinned “I’m talking about Michael Jackson, you kid!” she says. Archie slaps her hand off his hair in annoyance.

“What are you talking about?” “The visions. The monsters and magicians. Didn’t you see them? “No,” Michael’s voice trailed off. Jon could see him bouncing around in his own head, trying to assemble the missing jigsaw pieces. “But then I was inside.” “How did you stumble onto this? I’ve never heard of anything like it.”

He really is Michael Jackson, laughing I also pushed myself closer to him and moved my legs side to side imitating whatever Michael Jackson did. Right when I started to enjoy I am pulled away from baldy or was it Jackson. “Hey!” The chocolate eyes were filled with anger but not towards me, it was pointed at baldy. “Leave.” He barked and the ma scurried off. Scaredy cat! Smelling the vanilla bourbon scent I forgot about the sweat and liquor in the room. “I wanted to dance with Michael Jackson.” I whined holding onto the collar of Nathan. Even his name was hot!

I moaned softly, picking up the pace as I imagined Father Michael untying his robe, revealing a muscular chest and a thick, hard dick. He would walk over to me, push my hand out of the way, and take over jerking me off. His large hand would feel amazing on my cock, stroking me expertly. He would lean down to kiss me deeply, his tongue pushing into my mouth as he jacked me off. I would moan into the kiss, my hips bucking up into his fist. My own hand moved faster, mimicking Father Michael's imaginary touch. In my fantasy, he would suddenly stop jerking me off, making me whimper in frustration. He would instead grab my wrist, pulling my hand behind my back as he pushed me down onto the desk.

Michael imagined him beating his wife out of anger because she met up with another man; all kinds of nonsensical scenarios were flashing through his mind at once. “ What are you imagining in that little brain of yours?” Michael’s thoughts were interrupted by that statement. “ You’re not thinking that I beat up my wife out of anger, did you?” Michael felt guilty at charge and couldn’t retort back to Johnson as these were the feelings welling up through his mind a minute ago. Johnson sighed and said, “ What you’re thinking through your mind didn’t happen; What happened, however, was much more spicy.” “ Spicy?” Michael understood instantly what it was Johnson meant by that word. Happily, Michae

Doing all the things to you I've imagined for far too long now. "Imagined," I breathe into the silence of my room. He's imagined me too? Me:Imagined? Jackson:Imagined. Fantasized. Envisioned. Dreamed. All of that. "God," I sigh. I fall back to my pillow and stare up at my ceiling in the darkness, asking myself if I'm really going to do this. Am I really about to agree to this? How could this even be possible? How could I possibly know the situation weren't real?

Chapter 12: Do you want him to find us that easily Michael was hovering beside one sphere when Julia reached him. Close up the mirroring became transparent and you could see what was going on inside, even if it was a little misty. In this particular case a balding, fat, middle-aged man was surrounded by beautiful, mostly naked Las Vegas showgirls, complete with feathers and heavily exaggerated silicon breasts. Michael shook his head. "I hope I never start having dreams that tacky," he remarked, and then floated off toward another dreamscape.

In my mind, I imagined someone else—a man who hadn’t been by my side for the past few days. That man was next to me, treating me like a loving husband who had just learned that his wife was pregnant. His gaze was no longer cold and cruel but warm. His touch on me was softer, more comforting. I didn’t feel fear or hesitation when I was with him. Michael. I had just imagined Jonas as Michael. I must have lost my mind. No. I firmly repeated the words in my head. That man was no longer in my life. He was nothing—just someone who had briefly passed through my existence, which was still moving forward.

He dropped a kiss on her forehead just as his phone rang. Jumping abruptly from this rude disturbance, Mike was shocked to find himself in his kitchen, alone. Obviously, he has been fantasising about Liza all these time while having his dinner. He couldn’t remember ever doing that in his adult life. As a matter of fact, Mike never knew he was a man of imagination. Not until this moment he found himself playing out a full sex section with Liza in his mind. Trying to sit comfortably, he realised that would be hard to achieve as he had a full budge in his trousers which made sitting difficult. Obviously, his rod thought it was playing time.