Monthly Archives: October 2012
October 19th, 1983 (Hayvenhurst)
**Excessive cursing! Have fun reading!**
Everything was going smoothly; The dinner was great, the music slammin’. We even ended up going back to his house. His smile intoxicated me; I couldn’t resist following him quietly upstairs towards his bedroom. I sighed slowly trying to imagine Michael Jackson and myself going for the bed, making sweet love to each other. He smiled at me just before he slipped the key inside the lock, put his hand behind my head, pulled my chin up, and kissed me passionately. He felt me moan and pulled me closer while rubbing up against me. I could tell he couldn’t wait for me to slip my underwear off.
He let go of me to resume opening the door, we slipped in, and suddenly he froze, making me bump into him. Someone was in here, an uninvited guest.
“Michael?” A sweet sounding voice called. “Baby, is that you?”
I wanted to scream my bloody head off, I wanted to shout to the Devil and ask him himself why in the world would he let her get into my bedroom on a special night like this. The date with Ari was going just the way I wanted it, and now this. What a way to eff up some important plans. She just had to show up. Tonight. Right now. In my bedroom. On my bed. Wearing nothing but a lace nightgown.
“Diana. What are you doing in here and how did you get in?” I made sure Ari’s small stature was hidden behind me. I knew that if Dee saw her, the night would get worse.
“Well, I just slipped in. Worked a few bells and whistles. I wanted to surprise you, that’s all. Why are you so nervous, baby?” She crooned unsuspectingly.
“I’d like you to leave right this minute, Diane. I don’t have time.”
I really don’t have time. The romantic mood Ari and I had just shared was dying out.
Just leave peacefully, Diane! Not tonight!
But she wouldn’t budge from her sensual position on my bed. I could see the curve of her breasts, even her hard nipples protruding from the revealing nightgown she wore. She made my mouth water- She made me want Ari to be the one that left. But Ari was unexplored land, and I needed to claim my territory. And tonight was gonna be the night.
I decided to ask Ari to step out for a quick second. I apologized over and over again, but she seemed to be unfazed by the whole affair. Once she left, I made up my mind to give it to Diane.
“How dare you come into my home unsuspected. You don’t know when I have ‘guests’. Get out. Please!” I begged.
She was taken aback by my tone of voice; It was a rare sight to see when I yelled at Diane.
“You brought some bitch home?! Is that it? And you want her to be your little play-thing. I see. Well let me just skip town so my man can get some from all the tramps on the block!”
“Diana, it’s not like that…Just get out. This is my house. I pay the bills. I live here. I’m seeing someone I’m interested in, and I would like to…talk to her some more.” I quietly replied. “And it’s not like you don’t treat me as a toy. You date other men. You touch on them when I’m in the room– Don’t even get me started. Just get the hell out and we’ll talk about it tomorrow.”
She sat there dumbfounded that I had just spoken to her like that. She put on some decent clothes, put her hair up in a ponytail, and stormed out. As if on cue, Ari stepped in.
“Listen, Michael,” She said, scratching the back of her head shyly, ” Um, I’m a little tired. If you’re busy I could talk to you tomorrow, or somethin’ like that.”
“No, don’t! She’s gone. She won’t be interrupting us any longer. I’m so sorry this had to happen. Please, uh, sit down.” I hurriedly said.
“So, is she your girlfriend? Because I don’t wanna be caught up in any drama.”
I completely avoided her question by saying: “I promise you she will not cause any more problems.”
She nodded her head in understanding and sighed. I laid my on her thigh and gently rubbed. She looked at me in a sensual gaze, waiting for me to go further. I kissed her, and she kissed me back. God, how her lips felt against mine.
But then the strangest thing happened.
Diane burst into the room with a jealous glare. If looks could kill, Ari would have been on the floor with a puddle of blood surrounding her.
“Diane-” I began to say.
“Save it!” She yelled.
How dare this little five piece whore come into my man’s house and make moves on him?! Can’t she see he’s taken? Dumb trick!
“Get. The Fuck. Away from him. Right. Now.” Was all I could say.
Surprisingly she obeyed without a fight, but she glared back, intent on intimidating me.
“What’s your problem?!” She demanded.
“I’ll tell you what my mother fuckin’ problem is! Michael is mine, not yours. He’s my man!”
“He belongs to you? Has he put any rings on your fingers? Has he knocked you up? I don’t think so! So why don’t you just step the fuck off and leave like he asked you to.”
Michael sat on standby, clearly impressed on how this piece of shit was handling herself.
I cracked my knuckles like it was time for bloodshed. If someone had to get hurt, it was gonna be her.
“Now you just wait a mother-fuckin’ minute, Missy-“
“Don’t call me ‘Missy’. And I supposed you want me to respect my elders, correct? Shove it up your ass, you irrelevant dick sucker.”
I could not believe this shit-stopper just interrupted me.
Before I could say another word, she turned to Michael and said, “Michael, I hope you have a nice night. And in a way, Diane is right-“
So the little bitch is agreeing with me?
“-Me and you, we can’t be together. We can’t mess around, since I’m supposed to be your assistant on the Victory tour.”
She threw that in just to mess with me. And it worked, because I stumbled a little from surprise. I saw she smirked as she left after throwing Michael a kiss.
When she left I said, “I just wanna slap the sh-“
“Not tonight, Diane. What you did was childish and uncalled for. How jealous.”
“But- But she was being childish too!” I whined.
“No, Ari was standing up for herself. You’re such a bully. Goodnight. Oh, and don’t bother calling me tomorrow for our lunch date, that’s just been cancelled. Sweet dreams, my valentine.”
My jaw dropped. Michael was really blowing me off for this 99 Cent Store trash!
I groaned in disgust and left, wondering if Michael would regret what he’d just said to me. And he thinks he’ll get away with this. Hell no!
I’ll ruin Annah- with all the strength and celebrity I have, I will terrorize this bitch. Every ounce of her private life will be made known to me so that I can ruin her. The Diva is back in business.
The “One-Time Encounters” category is basically about Michael having one-night stands with women. The rules I go by when writing these stories:
1. They will always be from Michael’s POV. (No switching POVs, No POVs from the ladies, just Michael, okay?)
2. No other genders. I don’t even care if he experimented in his lifetime, there will be no gay sex or orgies (unless it’s two women which, even then, will be rare. I’ll try to keep it “normal” for those traditional readers).
3. If you don’t know what a one-night stand is, you are either:
A. Underaged (you shouldn’t be here)
B. A virgin (Get SOME)
or C. Need to go back to Sex Ed class (pronto).
One-night stands mean you probably don’t know the person at all or very well. If you’re looking for him to “do it” with Diana Ross, go look into “The Stories” category. But of course, Madonna will probably be featured here since I don’t like her…(long story :p)
Please be aware that some of the encounters might be freaky ‘n’ kinky. You’ve been warned! *laughs evilly*
[2 Wks Later] Thriller Era, 1983 at The Plaza Dance Academy (Long Beach, Ca)
I made it literally two seconds before the clock signaled I was late. The door slammed behind me as I tripped inside. I fell flat on my stomach, causing excruciating pain to my still-numb knee. I shook it off, got up, and faced my pupils. All twelve of them were children under the age of sixteen, and they adored me. They were the kids from the bad side of Los Angeles. The “statistics” my father used to call them; the kids that were expected to turn into gang-bangers and drug addicts. It saddened me that some of the kids didn’t have the guidance and love they deserved. So I opened a dance academy for underprivileged children from the ghetto. It took a lot of money, but, with federal funding, I’m able to even buy these kids some clothes.
I grew up in a rich family in Sacramento. We didn’t have a huge house, but, as a child, I was always aware there was a lot of money to my name. I had never been without a bite to eat. I was completely oblivious about people less fortunate than me until I turned fourteen. I saw children my age, from my school, asking for handouts on the street to buy something from Burger King. When they saw me looking at them, they bowed their heads in horror and shame. I knew right then and there that I had to do something. So I did. I went into my mother’s wallet without her knowledge, and slipped each of them a twenty-dollar bill. I changed the way I thought about other people; I started a children’s’ charity fund, and donated to homeless shelters as often as I could.
I feel I’ve helped poor children. I’m confident that I am helping them, but I want to remain humble. I don’t want them to think I’m some god, or some deity. I’m just me, Annah-Renee Johnson. I guess I just know right from wrong. And letting other people starve is totally wrong.
“Hey, Ari! You got here just in time!” A kid named Sav joked.
“I know, I know! I’m really sorry. It’s just…Well you know how I said I would get Michael Jackson’s glasses for you?” I said sincerely.
“Yeah!” They all chimed in.
Twelve voices all started talking at once: “Didja get them?” “Did you get to touch him?!” “His hair!” “Mike is sexy…” “I can moonwalk better than he can.” “Y’all shut up!” Michael this, Michael that. Michael, Michael, Michael.
I apologized with great contempt,”Guys, someone broke the present and somebody else got his glasses…”
“Aw!” They all pouted.
“But I got to meet him. People were actually walking on me. He saw me and took me to his hotel room and-”
“Wait! You went to his hotel room?! What did you do?” a sixteen-year old asked.
“Get your mind outta the gutter, y’all!” Cecil called out.
I just rolled my eyes, and set a bag of snacks down. “Come on, guys. Lets start dancin’!”
An hour later…
As the last of the kids filed out of the Academy door, someone with huge shades walked in. He had ultra-thick sideburns, a nappy-ass afro, ugly, yellowing chipped teeth, and an unkempt mustache…
“Who the fuck are you?!” I asked, skeptically.
“It’s me. I’m Michael Jackson.”
He giggled as my eyes got big in realization. I immediately recognized the jawline, skin tone, and the nose. It was a good disguise if you didn’t look too close.
“Well…erm…” I squirmed in embarrassment. “How can I help you this fine evening, Mr. Jackson?”
“I- I needed to see you again. I couldn’t resist the temptation.” He shyly replied. “And- And ya left your wallet at the hotel room, so here it is.” He waved it in the air.
I grabbed at it, but missed as he yanked it out of my reach.
“Boy, are you short or what?” he teased.
“Michael, gimme my wallet back.” I playfully demanded.
“I don’t feel like it.”
“You’re a piece of shit.”
I had no comebacks. Here I was arguing with Michael effing Jackson about a damn wallet. He turned around and removed his glasses, mask, sideburns, and mustache, and revealed a clean-shaven young man- Still adorable as could be. As he turned back around, he caught me staring. My eyes could not leave his smooth lips, his chocolate-brown, almond-shaped eyes, those beautifully carved cheekbones. I felt a sudden yearning for him. I wanted him to touch me and hold me close to him like I was when I was barely conscious a few weeks ago.
He stared back just as intently. He took a minuscule step forward and asked me a question I hardly expected,”Do you find me pleasing?”
His baby-like voice had left him entirely. Masculine sexiness and divine power took its place. Split personalities. What a turn-on.
I couldn’t say a word. But he knew the answer as my eyes trailed down to the crotch of his pants. I do so many things, driving myself crazy.
“Mhmm.” Was all he said, like he read my mind.
I almost smashed into him; I was eager to place my hand on every inch of his body. It wasn’t a lust type of want, it was a dire need. I could tell that the feeling was mutual. Every single part of my being wanted to flow into his, to touch and be touched. But I knew that’s not what he came here for. And I didn’t want to come off as some dirty little tramp out to ruin a superstar’s life. That’s just not the type of hoe I am.
“I- I can’t. I’m sorry.” His face changed into surprise that I would decline such a pleasing offer…
Her curvy body had me mesmerized. I just wanted to touch and kiss…I wanted her to come home with me tonight. She was giving me butterflies. But then she seemed to change her mind. Once again, this girl managed to amaze the living daylights out of me. I don’t open myself easily to sexual offers, let alone to people I barely know. But there was something about this girl. Everything about her intoxicated me. I wanted to be her lover, her sister, her mother, her father, her brother. Her everything. It had been two weeks since I last saw her, and I started thinking about her more than I did Diana.
There was a fire burning inside of me. That song by Tina Marie and Rick James called “Fire and Desire”- that’s just how I felt. I saw my whole future fly by in front of me. And she was a part of it. She had me wondering what our babies would look like. Every ounce of me desired to lay next to her in the night, when life seemed to come crashing down for her. To make love to her to take the pain away. To kiss and squeeze.
Get it together! What am I thinking! I barely know her, and that’s not the reason I’m here! I scolded myself.
“Uhm…Well, my brothers and I, we want you to help us choreograph our tour for one of our albums we’re currently working on called Victory.”
She couldn’t contain herself; “Wow! You haven’t even seen me dance and I’ve already got a job?!”
“Well no..We checked out some of your material, talked to people who’ve employed you before, watched some tapes of your dancing. Your very good. You’ll be my assistant when I’m not there.”
I learned that Ari could imitate me perfectly without skipping a beat. At first, my brothers were wary of hiring a girl. They thought I was just hiring her to be my personal eff-buddy. But that’s not the case. She’s a very excellent dancer. But I won’t tell her that.
“Ari, I’m here to hire you. Is your schedule free for July to December of 1984?” I politely asked.
Please please please say yes!
She thought it over, trying to remember anything she had scheduled in advance. When she was done, she got a sad look on her face.
But then she started grinning like an idiot.
“Well, Mr. Jackson, looks like I can do it!”
I quietly thanked the Heavens. She’s booked! She’s mine!
Thriller Era, 1983 at The Sunset Tower Hotel (Hollywood, CA)
Everybody surrounded me like I was some new type of species. I wanted to get away, but I couldn’t; Girls were literally screaming in my face, damn near blowing my eardrum out. They were pulling my hair, breaking my glasses, messing up my outfit. But then I saw one of them getting trampled by others trying to get closer to me. I couldn’t see her face, but I knew she was in pain.
“STOP IT!” I yelled at the top of my lungs. It got quiet- real quiet. Everyone stopped what they were doing, dead in their tracks. I pushed a few fans gently out of the way to get to her. She was unaware that everyone had stopped moving. As soon as I reached her, I picked her up and realized she was unconscious. Sometime the “girls from the balcony” do too much.
I thought the girls were crazy for me as a child; When Thriller started getting really big, my public life got worse. There were more “Billie Jeans” than ever before; more girls asking for me to be nasty with them. They gave me fan-mail about all the things they wished I would shove inside of them- along with my…you know…
People were still frozen in their place as I made my way back to my hotel room with the young woman in my arms. She needed an ambulance, and quick. I watched her perfectly-sculpted chest rise and fall while thoughts of what I could do to her when she woke up swarmed into my mind. She was beautiful; Although her hair was disheveled I could see her tormented baby-face. She was a tiny thing; about 5’2”, thick as a brick house, but not fat. Her face was slender, her hair long. I could tell she had almond-shaped eyes, which made me smile. But something I could not tell was if she was African-American or White…But I’d find out what this Angel was sooner or later.
My bodyguard, Bill Bray, was inside my hotel room. He stepped back in amazement as I walked in holding the unconscious girl in my arms. I held her tenderly; something I never did with anyone but Diana. I felt a strange connection to this unknown girl. I didn’t (and couldn’t) care if she was outside with those crazy fan-girls trying to rip my clothes off. That’s how mesmerizing and exotic she was to me.
“Mike, who’s that?” Bill asked cautiously. I could tell from his tone that he thought I was turning into Jackie and Jermaine; he thought I brought this girl here to get it in. I couldn’t help but laugh.
“It’s not what you think, Billie boy! She got trampled in the crowd. I think she needs to see a doctor.”
Bill took her out of my arms as Frank DiLeo came out of the bathroom. Frank immediately walked over to the young woman and said, “You got a good one this time!” and winked.
“Frank! It’s not like that!” I said shyly. If I was light-skinned, my cheeks would have been burning with blood.
“Mhmm!” He said. Frank didn’t believe me. Whatever.
I walked over to the kitchenette, grabbed a cup of water and a wash towel, and made my way back to the girl in the blink of an eye. Bill set her on the couch to prop her head up while I set about putting water on the cloth and wetting her face. Her eyes fluttered open after about three minutes. At first, her eyes were dazed, unaware of what was happening, but then she was scared. Three strange men around her while she was laying on a couch; I couldn’t even imagine what she was thinking, but I knew it was probably something bad.
But then she collected her wits and realized who I was. She looked at me strangely, trying to figure out how she got here, so Bill tried to filled her in on what happened, failing ultimately:
“Mike said you got trampled by a bunch of bitches- I mean girls…Damn, that was mean…Maybe Mike should tell you…” he walked away and sat on a dining room chair, feeling he had messed up big time.
All she did was giggle and smile this big, huge smile that made my stomach fill with butterflies. She moved her long, wavy hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear. I immediately realized that she was Creole. Her brown eyes held me captive. I had to admit, she had some big lips- Soup coolers, my brothers would call them. That was fine with me. When her eyes left mine to look at Bill and Frank, I got jealous. I only wanted her to look at me. To smile at me.
I wanted to know everything about her, right then and there.What was her name? I needed to know her name!
I told her all that happened, except the part of me yelling at everyone. I felt I did a good deed, and started getting arrogant about it. After all, if it wasn’t for me, she would have been seriously hurt. I asked her if she felt anything was broken, and she replied, in the most serene voice I have heard to this day:
“No, I just feel sore. But there’s a footprint on my thigh, so I guess I did get trampled. Thank you for your help. All of you. Um…I guess I’ll go..”
She got up to leave, but quickly sat back down after Frank, Bill, and I looked at her strangely. Most girls would start screaming and yelling, or get real shy- Most of all, they wouldn’t want to leave. But here she was, trying to get away from me, the biggest star on the planet. She was totally unfazed by the stardom I had, like I was just another person. It wasn’t like a disrespectful type of attitude, she just looked at it like, “Well he has to eat and breathe just like the rest of us; he’s no different.” I silently thanked her for this.
There was a strong moment of silence, but then she broke it:
“So…Not to be ungrateful or anything but: is there something I can help you with?”
Bill, Frank, and I looked at each other trying to figure out why we kept her here. She shifted in her seat trying to make her bruised leg feel a bit more comfortable. As she did this, the worst thing happened: I caught her scent. I slowly closed my eyes while inhaling with a deep sigh. Frank saw my expression and realized what was happening , so he quickly started a conversation with the girl.
“So, kid, what’s your name? Where ya from? Age? All the basics?” He asked, like a true skeptical businessman.
“Annah-Renee Johnson. You can call me Ari for short. I’m from Sac-Town (Sacramento, California). I just moved here. I’m twenty-three. Born April fifteenth, nineteen fifty-nine. Anything else?” she answered with a quickness.
So she an Aries? Aries’ are known to be very rebellious; they think they know every god damned thing. They fight back, and try to come off as macho, but deep inside they’re wounded children who just don’t know how to ask for help. But they’re loyal, brutally honest, very blunt and sarcastic, talkative, smart, and ready to attack. I think I like her already.
It was Bill’s turn to ask the questions:
“So, you a fan of Michael’s?”
“Yeah. I have a lot of pictures of you on my walls. Big fan.” she jokingly said.
I couldn’t help but blush.
I involuntarily added to the conversation by saying, “So that’s why you were with all those girls? To jump me!”
“Yep! That’s exactly the reason. I was hoping to give you something actually, but somebody broke it on the way here. And then I was gonna take your glasses.” She smiled, but then she got serious, “Do you deal with crowds like that all the time? Because that was a helluva lot of people.”
“Yeah. You get used to it after a while. But the fans love me, its just that they have a strange way of showing it sometime.”
“I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes for anything in the world. Sometimes I wonder why I try to pursue dancing. I hope I don’t become a big choreographer or anything…” Her voice trailed off as she imagined guys trying to rip every piece of clothing she had on.
“So you dance?” Frank chimed in.
“Oh, yes! I enjoy it very much. I don’t do a specific type of dancing. I just do what comes to me. What I feel in the moment-”
Frank gave me a side-eye as she said “in the moment”. I chuckled quietly as she went on.
“-because there’s no way to really “choreograph” something. At least not for me. It’s hard for me to remember exact dance steps because the power comes and goes.”
She looked at all of us intently, waiting for someone to say something. Before anyone could, she looked at her watch and realized she had to be somewhere.
“Oh crap! I’m almost late! I have a rehearsal in a few minutes. I need to leave right away! Thank you so much for all your help once again!” She winked and gave all of us a million-dollar smile and hauled ass! But she left her wallet behind. Inside it had a stack of cash, plus the business card that said where her dance studio was located.
“Hurt me now!” I exclaimed as she left.
“I know, right?! That was a piece o’ thang, right thurr.” Bill joined in.
“That face! Mike, you gotta get that!” Frank put in.
I blushed even more, and tried to hide my face with my hand.
We all joked that one of us had to snatch her up. She was too pretty to forget about. And now that we had all of her information, that would be pretty easy.
They were right…I gotta find that girl…