“Disco Dandy”
A Michael Jackson Erotic Short Story By:
MJsLoveSlave
Hollywood, California
April, 1979
She’d finally done it!
Hot damn, she’d finally done it!
After five months of waiting on line on a nightly basis, Cassidy Huff had finally achieved the impossible:
Gained entrance to The Electric Zebra one of the most popular and exclusive clubs in the city.
It had been her dream to get in ever since it had opened the previous December with a star-studded Christmas Grand Opening.
You know the club had to be something special if the likes of Diana Ross and Leif Garrett had attended. (Leif being carried out by two of his buddies before the night was over.)
And there she was.
Walking amongst the glamorous and the glitterati, looking every bit as though she fit in--a look that had taken upwards of four hours to achieve.
Cassidy, though of average height, was a young lady of ample womanly curves and knew just how to decorate them to her advantage. Everything she had done was for the purpose of looking just right.
Every surface of her skin was a deep, dark bronze, thanks to the many hundreds of hours she had laid out in her backyard in the nude to avoid tan-lines. Who cared if she was already naturally tan, being half Native American and half Black? And who cared if twenty years down the line she’d have melanomas covering her? Tonight, she was hotter than Farrah Fawcett on fire! And twice as sexy!
She further exploited her complexion with heavily applied and eye catching make up in purposefully lighter colors intent to deepen her skin all the more.
Tossing her head, her long, straight black locks bouncing, light reflecting off of her gold sequined barely-there halter top. If she breathed too hard, the entire place most likely would have been flashed by those perky, tear-drop shaped globes extending from her chest.
With a prayer and a puff of hot air, a her second-skin, black leather bellbottoms clung to her hips as she teetered across the lighted, zebra-print dance floor towards the bar in her six, yes six inch golden platforms that it took her three of the five month wait to spring out of lay-a-way.
But it was worth it for the look she wanted. So what if she had to live on Ramen noodles for the rest of year?
Almost as soon as she got to the bar, men started to appear.
Cassidy always drew that reaction when she went out.
Tall, skinny blonde ones with goatees, buff Black ones with Afros bigger than the room…all colors, all shapes, all sizes.
All trying to make a little time with Cassidy.
All turning sour faced and cursing angrily when rejected and declined.
Even though most of them had been pleasantly attractive, Cassidy was very picky when it came to them men she spent her time with.
If a man didn’t audibly make her gasp the moment she looked at him, she didn’t want to be bothered.
It was a superficial notion yes, but after baking like a piece of clay pottery in the sun, Cassidy didn’t want anything other than the best.
Leaning against the bar, sipping at her third whiskey sour of the night, Cassidy was starting to wonder if she’d spend the entire night alone. Had it all been a waste? All the primping, the preparing, the sunburns?
That the scene at The Electric Zebra was not all it had been touted and cracked up to be…
She had always heard the club was the best place to find the hottest men. Men that were so arresting, so inexplicably good looking that it would be a miracle women didn’t just rip their clothes off and mount the nearest thing with a pulse.
Cassidy wanted to see a man who would make her want to just boink until her hips snapped and shattered.
Then, as Donna’s Summer’s latest hit, “Hot Stuff” began playing and encouraging booties everywhere to shake, she saw him.
A gap in the people getting their groove on left Cassidy fairly reeling.
Just off the dance floor, leaning against a neon lit pillar was a man that emptied the girl’s lungs of their very breath.
A man that was alone, and sipping a drink, peacefully watching the people swaying in front of him.
Cassidy wasn’t sure if he’d come alone, but at the moment he was to himself and had certainly dressed to gain attention.
In a room full of leisure suits, astrological sign medallions in faux gold and polyester, this guy stood out.
The man, lanky, and gangly, was clad in a sparkly version of a bandleader’s jacket, complete with a red, clear stoned jacket over white lame trousers and a thick, rhinestone covered belt hung at his hips.
But it wasn’t the obviously loud costume that had Cassidy’s attention.
No…it was the man’s face.
There was something about this man’s face.
Slim, brown, and framed by a sizeable, textured Afro, the man’s face was a wonder.
Large dark eyes flittering back and forth as he continued being a spectator on the sidelines. A strong prominent nose, the kind that seemed fit only for someone of Nubian royalty perhaps. Soft, pinkish lips, hugging the rim of the glass he continued consuming his drink, almost making out with it as he took a seat at a small table,
Staring at him, Cassidy realized two things.
One: The man’s glass was just about empty and he could have used a refill. A man as gorgeous as him needed to never be without a drink.
Two: He was drinking the exact same beverage as Cassidy--a whiskey sour. She had seen no other man tossing that party favor back and figured it was pure kismet the two of them had the same taste in alcohol.
Before she could even start to change her mind, Cassidy had plunked down the six dollars and seventy-five cents for another sour and was making her way around the dance floor. Destined to keep the man company.
God help the bitch that tried to beat her to that chair because Cassidy was sure an eye-gouging would commence.
The man couldn’t see it, but the name “Cassidy Huff” had been branded right onto his forehead. He belonged to her, and no one else.
And she was going to lay claim to him if it killed her.
She angled herself in such a way that she would come up behind him.
“Hot Stuff” blended into a rocking instrumental and the man began bobbing his head to the tune leaving Cassidy was momentarily stunned as his scent, sweet, spicy and mildly tinged of whiskey hit her nose.
He smelled as sweet and dear as he appeared.
Willing the courage, Cassidy reached around him and set the glass before him.
Startled the man bounced in his chair before turning around to gaze at Cassidy curiously.
His mouth moved and there was some noise leaving it, something about how he hadn’t ordered another drink.
Cassidy scarcely heard him as she was fighting the urge to crawl all through his hair, buck naked, and braid it for him.
“…lady, I didn’t order another drink, please take it back!”
The man was telling her, and all she could do was be enchanted by his soft, musical voice.
Mustering a grin, she informed him,
“That drink is on the house; compliments of Cassidy Huff.”
The man’s thick brows furrowed before he complained,
“I don’t know anyone named Cassidy Huff!”
Being forward, Cassidy stuck out her hand and announced,
“Well, you do now!”
A delicate, long and smooth hand squeezed hers and the beginnings of a smile touched those beautiful lips.
Moving around the table, the man held out the other chair and happily obliging, Cassidy took her seat. He was really being a gentleman.
As the man retook his seat, Cassidy, trying her best to control herself and seem coy, twirled a lock of her hair, asking gently,
“Seeing as I just bought you a drink, the very least you can do is enlighten me to your name…if you have a name…”
“Michael…Michael Jackson.” The man chuckled and was now taking a drink of his sour.
Michael. What a pleasant, unassuming, decent name. Nothing strange like Eight Ball or Pork Chop or Slick Back like some of the other characters who had been trying to holler at her.
He had a normal name, even if his apparel was anything but.
Steadily twirling, Cassidy asked the question that had been burning up her tongue since she had laid eyes on him.
“Tell me something Michael…” She paused until she had his attention.
Those eyes washing over her in the most becoming way. Why her clothes hadn’t yet fallen off she had no clue.
“Why on Earth are you sitting here, looking like a Black Captain Crunch?”
The inquiry caused Michael to bust up loudly before he snorted an explanation,
“Hee-hee! I like dressing up and showing out when I go clubbing. Just like anyone else. And I like to be a little different you know--”
Nodding in agreement, Cassidy started to comment when the music changed again. A driving baseline shook the entire club and at once, Michael was on his feet clapping his hands and popping his long fingers.
“’Disco Inferno’!” He screamed and was fairly yanking the poor girl out her seat by the arm. “That’s my song! Come on, Cass!”
There was no time for a yes or a no, as Michael was dragging her to the center of the dance floor.
“Burn Baby, Burn! Disco Inferno! Burn Baby, Burn!”
Damn near everyone on the floor was singing the tune in some variant of the correct notes, including Michael.
But as she started to dance with Michael Jackson, the din and sounds of everyone else seemed to melt away from her conscious mind at once.
All she could see was Michael.
The talented and inspired a dancer he was.
Around and around Cassidy, Michael went, spinning, twirling, shuffling his feet, even popping up onto the toes of them for a brief instant.
He was everywhere around her, all at once.
Even if someone had wanted to cut in on them, it was quite clear who Cassidy was with.
Michael seemed so happy with her smiling, giggling, singing along, encouraging her.
And she liked it that way.
An energetic instrumental took over and instead of floating all over like a lost buoy, Michael was now closer to Cassidy, wiggling in front of her.
One long hand on her hip, as they rocked back and forth.
This new intimacy was driving the girl. Mad, madder with lust.
A frenetic wild lust that threatened to consume her.
Getting even closer, Cassidy was rubbing against Michael’s body, her hair getting tangled up on the stones of his jacket.
Inadvertently, Michael’s hand slipped down and the second it made contact with her buttock, the girl couldn’t stand it a moment longer.
The attraction was to strong, too bold to ignore.
She wanted that man. And she wanted him…yesterday!
Backing up a few steps, Michael started to spin.
Cassidy was jerked forward as she gripped Michael’s hand mid-turn.
Speaking into his ear, the room spinning, Cassidy wondered,
“Can’t we get out of here? Go someplace quieter, perhaps?”
The same smile she had been greeted with earlier once again came to Michael’s lips.
With a nod, he intertwined his fingers with hers and was leading her off dance floor swiftly.
She was leaving! Leaving with Michael!
Oh joy! Oh rapture!
Nearing the front entrance, Cassidy started a slow burn as Michael dropped her hand and instead put his arm around her bare shoulders.
He had his arm around her. Cassidy could have died right there.
She was led outside and into the adjoining parking lot to Michael’s car.
A little silver German import with black racing stripes down the front.
Still gentlemanly, Michael opened the door for her, revealing an all leather interior, before coming around and getting in the driver’s seat.
Without a word, he started the car, bringing it to a purring life and pulled out of the lot.
The car was completely silent. Michael didn’t even turn on the radio.
Cassidy held her tongue for fear she’d say something obscene and Michael was quiet…who knew why he was quiet.
It was unknown where she was being taken and while most women would have been scared driving off into the night with someone they’d known only about an hour, Cassidy was not.
If anything, she was brimming over with excitement, goose pimples dotting her skin.
Michael drove for several blocks, before turning into Blossom, a sprawling, public botanical garden.
Slowing down, the car came to a halt on the gravel path a few feet from an inwardly lit concrete fountain, spouting water into the air.
Staring at Michael in the eerie glow from the fountain, she couldn’t help but ask,
“Why did you choose to bring me here, of all places?”
Still looking straight ahead, Michael absently tapped the steeping wheel.
“I’ve always liked the gardens…it seemed like a nice place to bring a girl.”
Cassidy felt a brow going up curiously. Most men she knew had never heard of a botanical garden, much less visited them.
Just what kind of man was this Michael Jackson?
“I’m into botany and flowers and that sort of thing…” Michael was confiding, and Cassidy barely heard him.
She was wondering why Michael wasn’t undressing her yet.
“…my grandmother used to have a garden and make me weed it and I just got into growing stuff…” He was still rambling and Cassidy was wondering what it took to make that tool hanging between his thighs to grow.
“…I won a few awards for some of my roses….”
Reaching over, Cassidy went to try to undo the front of that elaborate jacket on Michael.
The mess he was saying would have been much more interesting if he wasn’t wearing anything. Or not. Who cared as long as his clothing came off and she could look at his wonderful body.
Much to her chagrin, instead of sitting still and allowing himself to be disrobed and ravaged, Michael pulled from her and was climbing from the car, coming around.
Opening the door for her.
Patience wearing thin, and twisting her mouth in anguish, Cassidy was quickly losing control of her rampaging hormones.
Running a hand through her hair, she demanded bluntly,
“Just what in the hell do you plan to do with me, Michael? Because it’s gonna be kind of hard to fool around fully clothed. Especially with you in that funky get up!”
A long finger was mashed to Cassidy’s plump, painted mouth and with a wink, Michael turned, walking away briskly, disappearing into the darkness.
Leaving Cassidy alone at the car.
He was gone for several minutes and her initial horniness starting to be replaced with fear that something bad was going to happen to her, she called out,
“Michael? Mike? You there? If…if you’re planning to do something crazy…I want you to know, I can yell awful loud. Bring the whole LAPD down on your ass! Michael! Michael!”
After what seemed like a nerve-wracked eternity, Michael returned, a small bouquet of pink and purple blooms in his hand.
He’d gone and collected flowers for her.
How sweet.
How gentlemanly,
How sexy.
How in the hell did his tongue get into her mouth?
Cassidy wasn’t sure how, but she and Michael were kissing.
Bumping against the car, the two of them greedily, passionately, wildly embracing, kissing at each other.
Cassidy’s hands were in Michael’s soft, curly hair, the flowers getting destroyed in the moment His hands were around and shadowing her face as he was pressing his tender, juicy mouth to hers, the flavor of his whiskey sour still detectable on his tongue as it swiped back and forth in Cassidy’s mouth.
On the same note, his whole mouth tasted of the liquor as Cassidy was returning the favor, penetrating his throat many times.
Slowly, Cassidy’s hands left Michael’s hair and made their way southward.
One hand grasping onto one of his tiny, taut butt cheeks, the other cupping his groin.
Openly rubbing him, it was no secret that Cassidy wanted to excite him.
Harden him.
And hopefully get him off.
Taking her mouth from his, the little tramp confided lustily ,
“Michael Jackson, you can do any dirty thing you want to me…”
Chuckling shyly and hanging onto the overheated young woman, Michael said something that made every, single hair on Cassidy’s head stand on end.
“I never have sex on the first date…it’s just something I don’t do. I’m sorry.”
For the first time in her life, Cassidy Huff was truly, utterly and completely speechless.
He didn’t want to take her? He didn’t want to do her?
He didn’t want to “Stuff the Huff”?
What the f*ck?
Her mind was spinning trying to formulate some sort of answer that would make sense of this.
Why did he dance with her, bring her to this somewhat romantic spot, secluded from peering eyes? Why did he give her the flowers and the free oral exam, if he didn’t intend to bring this baby home?
Had this all been a game?
Had Michael just been playing with her all along?
She started to curse the man out. Then she noticed his face.
The strange, almost sorrowful look to it…to his eyes.
He wasn’t joking. He was serious. He really didn’t have sex the first go around.
And while that was commendable, it did nothing to help the wanton Huff woman, who wanted this man so desperately in any way possible.
That’s when she noticed it.
The little zipper on the side of Michael’s trousers.
With no prior warning, Cassidy started to kick of her shoes--the shoes she had spent a month’s rent to afford--off into the grass beside the gravel road.
“I’m here…” She declared as she sank to her knees before him. “…and I intend to fool around.”
It was Michael’s turn to stare and he was barely audible.
“Are…are you going to…going to …taste me?”
Grinning up at him, Cassidy replied nastily,
“No, I’m going to blow your f*cking brains out.”
Michael’s hands shaking in anticipation, removed his elaborate belt and threw it to the ground, whirling one hand in a circular motion, egging her on.
Pulling down the zipper, Cassidy assured Michael that she would be good to him.
As the pants were moved out the way, Michael’s smooth toned thigh was exposed and when she kissed it, the man was so electrified, he reared back into his car with such force, it rocked violently.
The pants fell to his ankles and a second later were joined by his pristine, white briefs.
There he was, Michael Jackson’s loins were out for all to see and Cassidy was impressed by the sight that met her.
Michael’s crotch was completely bare, except for a small thatch of painstakingly trimmed hair that looked more like black peach fuzz than anything else.
And even in a flaccid state of affairs, his d*ck was quite large, just dangling there. Crying out for a good sucking.
A delicate shade of brown, Michael’s pen*s was natural it’s foreskin just barely covering the rounded, lighter tip of that girth.
Yes, Cassidy decided as she leaned back and was undoing her halter top, pulling it off and revealing her abundant bosom to Michael’s prying eyes. Yes, she was going to enjoy every second of this.
“Those tits…mmmm…”
Michael murmured as Cassidy took hold of that meat and began to stroke it, wanting him to go hard. As hard as he could get.
Because before this was over, she was going to get him wet, sticky and soft.
“Yes Cass….yes, Baby, rub it…rub me…” Michael was begging as she used both her hands to twist at him.
Uncovering that sweet tip over and over again and entranced by it, Cassidy, pressed her lips to it, kissing it better than she had it’s owner’s mouth.
“Christ! Oh my God!” Michael wailed and his car rocked again as he jerked in his excitement. “Oh girl! Oh, yes! Kiss it! Kiss it! Kiss my c*ck!”
Michael had began to swell and by the time he was done, he had to have been at least a foot long.
Cassidy was struggling to contain herself, and was growing moist just looking at the man. She couldn’t just stare. She had to taste. To suck…gobble…eat, anything to get him off. Get herself off.
Falling forward, she rapidly allowed Michael into her mouth, not stopping until her lips collided with his groin.
“Oh-oh-oh-oh-woo!” Michael cried as she slowly was sliding back from him, his d*ck popping from her mouth and pointing skyward.
Wiping at her mouth, Cassidy tittered, before asking,
“Do you want me to deep throat you, Michael? I can do it, I don’t gag like most chicks--”
“Don’t stop! You can do whatever. I don’t care! Just don’t stop. Love of Christ, don’t stop, Cass!” Michael demanded, pounding a fist against the side of his car as taking the hint, Cassidy was back on him, tongue out, licking him up and down and up and down again. Working that flesh lollipop.
“Ahhhh! Sh*t!” He screeched as the woman held his mass out the way and blew warm air onto his sack.
She delighted in the fact he nearly collapsed when for a glimmer of a moment she took that scrotum into her damp mouth.
(MODS: If this is too much, I am more than willing to edit and omit that line. --MJLS )
“F*cking Hell--she’s tea-bagging me….” Michael was seemingly shocked as he was slipping his jacket off. Revealing his sleek, svelte upper body. That was starting to shimmer as he broke into a sweat trying to control himself. Hold off the inevitable.
Again, Michael’s pen*s was in her mouth, disappearing.
“Yes…you do that…. You suck all of that…deep…deep…deep throat my sh*t Cass, Baby…woo!” He was approving shrilly, as she gripped onto his hips to steady herself as she, at once, was mouthing his entire length.
“Oh god damn, what you’re doing….oh suck it…suck it…harder , Baby. Suck that d*ck. You like that d*ck don’t you. Eatin’ my meat…”
The car rocked more as Michael groaned, lovely face twisted in this fit of passion.
Again, Cassidy was off him, stroking him.
“Ah! Ah! God damn, girl! Work it! Work me!!!”
She really was enjoying how he let her do all the work. She wanted to pleasure him by herself.
And to make him even crazier, she leaned forward wrapping her massive breasts around his pole, leaving the top two inches open and immediately, it was back in her mouth, being swirled at by her tongue.
“What the f*ck? What the f*ck? What the f*ck?” Michael repeated dumbly wiggling, leaning over her, and was pressing his hands to her smooth shoulders.
Cassidy waited until he was out the way and against his car, standing again before popping him from her mouth to inquire,
“Would you prefer, I spit or swallow, Mike?”
“SWALLOW!” Michael yelled to the treetops- a flock of birds, frightened, took flight for the heavens--as he fell back against his car, arm to his forehead dramatically.
“Oh my God…I’m getting a blowjob in the park…dreams do come true!”
He whined and sniffled, playing with Cassidy’s hair as she continued to gnaw at him. The statement tickled her so much she almost spit that wonderful thick flesh out.
“Suck it, oh suck it! Oh Baby! Yes….yes!” Michael was starting to grit his teeth, eyes swelling as he still waged battle on that “feeling“.
Cassidy had him right where she wanted him. Exactly where she wanted him.
Pounding at the car and rearing again, a warning was seeping from Michael’s curled and sneering lips.:
“Aw sh*t! Aw sh*t. It’s almost over! It’s almost over. Oh! Oh! God! Oh! It’s almost…almost over, Cass!”
Sensing that Michael was within the range for that blessed moment, for the last time, Cassidy took her mouth from him, tugging at him for all she was worth.
Watching Michael, she opened her mouth, tongue wagging awaiting the fireworks.
Michael Jackson was losing the battle with his body.
“Oh my God! Oh my God! God! God!--Sh*t!”
Michael screamed, his c*ck quivering violently in Cassidy’s hands before discharging.
“Yes! Yes! Yes! That’s it! That’s it right there! Oh….oh, I’m coming…oh shit! Mother fucker!” Michael hollered throwing his head back as he continued ejaculating, Cassidy helping to milk him.
With five strong, full-bodied squirts, Michael Jackson had pretty much filled Cassidy’s mouth with white hot seed.
“OH!” Michael grunted, collapsing to his knees, struggling for air.
Grabbing onto his chin with one hand, Cassidy brought Michael’s head up and forced him to look at her as she took the back of her free hand, placed it to her mouth and very quietly--expertly--was ingesting his load.
No gagging, no coughing. Simply swallowing the whole salty goo.
A fact that wasn’t lost on Michael one bit.
Shaking his head and gulping, the man was wiping at his damp brow.
“Hell, Cassidy, I…I don’t think I’ve ever been done like that before.” He sighed.
“I know--” Cassidy started to brag and let out a startled cry as Michael suddenly grabbed her, hugging her tightly, and was falling into the grass with her.
She laughed as Michael kissed at her face, mouth and neck, before starting to lick at the tops of her breasts.
“I…I have to see you tomorrow night, Cass. Please tell me you’ll go out with me tomorrow. We can go back to the Zebra and or anywhere you want to go…” Michael pleaded in between pecks jiggling those mounds.
“I gotta see you, Cass…”
Sliding her hand up and down his wet shaft as it flopped betwixt them, Cassidy bargained in a low, sultry tone.
“Yes…but only if you promise to f*ck me next time… I want that inside me…”
Eyes huge in his head, Michael vowed frantically,
“YES! Yes, Baby! If you screw anything like you suck, I’ll block out the next decade for you! The Eighties are for you, girl!”
Happy, the two of them laid there, smacking away at each other.
Cassidy had gotten her little disco dandy and he was, indeed, dandy!
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