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Lessons	By : Poppets Category: M through R > Roswell Views: 1307 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Roswell or any of the characters. I make no money from this work.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
Lesson 4: Michael needs some help with his washing, and finds out that the spin cycle is a lot of fun.

"Uh, Michael," Liz giggled as she walked into his apartment, "why is your shirt pink?"
"My laundry stuffed up," he mumbled.
"What was that? I didn't quite catch it." Liz asked as innocently as possible.
Michael glared at her. "I dumped all my clothes into the washing machine and all my white shirts came out looking like this," he gestured towards himself.
"Why didn't you try to fix them with your powers?"
"I did. This is as good as I could get them."
"Lolly pink! I would have loved to have seen them when they first came out." Liz doubled over with laughter. She was laughing so hard, tears were streaming down her face.
"That's really nice, Liz. Laugh at the poor, helpless alien. And I'm trying to do things the human way, without my powers."
"Ok, ok, I'm sorry," Liz managed to pant out, swallowing her laughter. "I think I need to give you a lesson in how to wash clothes."
Michael's mind wandered back to their last lesson and he groaned. "Oh, yeah. I think a lesson would be very useful."
Liz glared at him. "Control yourself, gutter boy."
Michael grinned. "I don't know if I can when you're around."
Liz groaned. "You're such a sleaze. Go get your washing and meet me in the laundry room," she called over her shoulder as she walked out the door.
Chuckling, Michael moved towards his bedroom to follow her command.
"Ok, the most important rule when washing clothes is separating them into whites and colours. Otherwise, you will have to continually bleach all your white clothes." Liz opened his bag of dirty washing and reached in with the intention of separating his clothes. Pulling her hand back, she blushed when she realised that she was holding a pair of Michael's black boxers.
Hastily dropping them back into the bag, she spun around to face Michael. "Why don't you separate them. It's the, uh, best way to learn." She quickly put some distance between them, slumping into a nearby chair.
As she watched Michael separate the clothes into piles, she mentally chastised herself for getting so embarrassed over a simple pair of boxers. It's not like it was a big deal. She had seen him completely naked, and these were just a pair of boxer's, a pair of Michael's boxers…. A dull heat flooded her body at the thought of Michael's boxers and just what they had so recently been in contact with.
"Bad, Liz, bad," she scolded herself.
"Done. What next?" Michael's voice pulled her out of her thoughts.
"Oh, uh, well put one pile into the washing machine and add a scoop of washing powder. Not too much or you'll end up with a room full of bubbles."
"Sounds like we could have some soapy fun."
"In your dreams."
"Every night."
Liz blushed. "Just do what I told you."
"Bossy. I like it. Shall I call you Mistress?" He asked, as he followed her orders, then slumped into the seat next to her.
Liz just rolled her eyes at him.
Michael chuckled to himself when she scooted slightly away from him, trying to avoid contact. She was acting as though she expected him to jump her at any moment, and truth-be-told, he was seriously considering it. But at the moment he doubted that she would be willing to participate.
They sat in an awkward silence for quite some time, neither knowing what to say to ease the tension.
Liz was restless. She couldn't sit still. X-rated thoughts kept flooding her mind, combine that with Michael's comment about soapy fun and she was in big trouble.
She had to say something, anything to get her mind off some rather arousing pictures.
She got up and paced around the room before finally hopping up onto the washing machine, trying to think of something to say, as Michael'' eyes followed her journey.
"Did you know that spin cycle of a washing machine is like a vibrator?" She blurted out, and immediately wanted to cram the words back into her mouth.
"No, I didn't know that, but thanks for the information." Michael paused. "What cycle is it in now?"
Liz gulped. "Spin," she whispered.
"Is it turning you on?" Michael asked as he got out of his chair and stalked towards her.
"N-no," she stuttered, but the opposite was true. Liz squirmed as the vibrations became stronger.
"Are you sure? You look rather…flushed to me."
"Maybe a-a little." She moaned as she shifted position slightly and the vibrations hit a particularly sensitive spot.
Michael moved to stand between her legs, grasping her thighs in his large palms, and pulling her to the edge of the washing machine, pressing the bulge behind his fly against her centre.
"Michael," she whimpered, and he swooped down to cover her lips with his, thrusting his tongue deep into the warm, wet cavern of her mouth.
His hands grasped the edge of her denim skirt and bunched it up around her waist. Curling his fingers around the edge of her panties, her tore them from her with one quick yank.
Liz groaned, her head dropping back as his lips moved to the column of her throat, placing soft nips on her skin and then soothing them with his tongue. Two of his fingers delved into her warm, wet folds, gently stroking her throbbing flesh.
"The spin cycle definitely turned you on. It made you wet, dripping wet."
"It wasn't just the spin cycle," she panted, as three long fingers thrust into her. "Please, Michael. I need you inside me."
Her hands found the buttons of his jeans, and hastily undid them, pulling them down far enough to free him into her hands.
Michael groaned and withdrew his fingers from her body so he could gently bat her hands away from his aching flesh. His large hands grasped her thighs, urging her legs to wrap around his waist. His erection nudged against her wet folds, and Liz arched up against him, trying to urge him to enter her. Michael pulled back slightly and with one deep thrust, he buried himself to the hilt inside of her.
"Shit," he groaned, as a shudder wracked his body. "I can see what they mean about the spin cycle. I can feel every single vibration against my balls." Michael knew that if he moved, he would be finished.
"Mmm, good isn't it." Liz arched her hips up towards his, urging him to start moving.
Unable to refuse her, he took her lips in a bruising kiss as he started thrusting hard and fast, trying to bury himself deeper inside her with every thrust. Tearing her shirt over her head, he took one nipple into his mouth, suckling it through the thin lace of her bra.
Liz threw her head back, screaming as an orgasm ripped through her, the sensations increased by the vibrations of the washing machine.
A harsh cry burst from between Michael's lips as Liz's body contracted around him and the vibrations of the machine massaged his balls. He came harder than he ever had before, surprised that the pleasure didn't kill him.
When their shudders finally stopped, they lay there panting as the machine finally came to a halt, a high-pitched beeping signalling that the wash was finished.
Michael reluctantly eased his body away from Liz's and helped her off the washing machine. He quickly pulled on his own clothes, and as Liz pulled on hers, he started pulling his now clean clothing out of the washing machine.
"Well, I guess you can handle it from here," Liz said as she made her way to the door.
"Yeah. Thanks for the help." Spotting her torn panties on the floor, he picked them up and turned to her with a smirk on his face. "Looks like I owe you a pair of panties."
With a grin, Liz shot back, "You owe me more than that. You owe me a lesson. I'll be waiting," she purred as she walked out of the room.
The End.
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