Lessons | By : Poppets Category: M through R > Roswell Views: 1305 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I don't own Roswell or any of the characters. I make no money from this work. |
Lesson 1: Liz doesn't know how to cook. Michael offers to give her a lesson.
"Michael, you don't feel like whipping me something up for dinner, do you?" Liz asked, as she wiped down tables in the closed Crashdown.
"Yeah, alright."
"Thanks. I really didn't feel like a microwave dinner."
Michael chuckled as he threw a couple of patties on the grill and began to cook them dinner.
Liz had finally finished cleaning and was slumped in one of the booths when Michael brought two plates over and pushed one in front of her.
"You really need to learn how to cook. You can't live on Crash food forever."
"I know, but ever since that little incident where I nearly burnt down the kitchen, I've been banned from going within 10ft of a stove."
"You can't just give up," he said, and then as inspiration struck him. "I'll teach you."
"You'll what?" Liz mumbled around her burger.
"I'll teach you how to cook. It'll be fun, and we can start off with something easy."
Despite herself, Liz's interest was piqued. "Ok. When do you want to do it?"
"Right now."
"What?! I'm still eating here."
"Come on," he said, jumping out his seat and grabbing her hand, pulling her up with him. "Don't be a wuss."
"Hey. I'm not a wuss."
"Well then, prove it."
"Fine," she huffed. "And get that stupid grin off your face."
"Nope, not going to happen," he said as he pulled her into the Crash kitchen and started grabbing ingredients.
"So what exactly are we going to make?"
"A cake. A very simple, easy to make cake. Even you couldn't stuff it up." He chuckled when she stuck her tongue out at him. "Now get over here and the lesson can begin."
Grumbling under her breath, she walked over to the counter he was standing at. He pushed her over to the mixing bowl and stood behind her.
"Okay, what you need is to first mix the butter and sugar together."
Liz grabbed the spoon and started stabbing at the butter.
Michael grabbed her hand, stopping her. "No, no." He stepped closer until the full length of his body was pressed against her back. "Like this," he showed her how to mix the ingredients together.
"Okay, now we add the egg." His lips brushed lightly against her neck and she gasped.
She grabbed the egg and clumsily cracked it into the bowl, his hand still gripping hers, showing her how to stir as his teeth nibbled on her ear.
"Next the flour, then the milk," he purred against her ear as his free hand wrapped around her waist, pulling open a button on her uniform to slip his hand inside and stroke her breasts, causing a shudder to race down her spine.
"And last of all," his other hand left hers and slipped under the edge of her dress, slowly inching up her thigh," we add vanilla essence."
"O-okay," she choked out, as his hand delved into her panties, thrusting two fingers inside her.
She dropped the spoon and gripped the edge of the counter, moaning with each thrust of his fingers.
Pulling his fingers from her, he tore her panties away and bent her forward over the counter, hiking her skirt up around her waist. He urged her legs apart and stepped between them, burying himself inside of her with one quick thrust.
He drew back and thrust into her, taking her hard and fast, pounding her into the counter.
He knew he was close, so he slipped his hand between her legs and roughly pinched her clit.
Liz screamed as her orgasm washed over her, hearing Michael cry out harshly as he followed her over the edge.
They both sagged against the counter as they tried to get their breathing back to normal.
"And you just chuck that in the oven for thirty minutes, and that's how you make a cake. Didn't I tell you it would be fun?"
"Oh, yeah." Liz chuckled. "I can't wait for my next lesson."
End.
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