Author: Lauren E-mail: Lcoffman21@aol.com Rating: R and some NC-17 language ;) Timeline: No specific place or time, just regular Roswell where Mi/L are together. Author's Note: This is just a fluff piece with a Liz POV. Inspiration struck me when I was Christmas shopping today with my friend… :) Thanks to: http://prominence.com/java/poetry/ -- for the help in arranging words to get some ideas. ;)
Magnetism 1/1 Have you ever seen those little magnetic poetry sets? The ones were you can put them on your refrigerator and create poems depending on the mood? Today when I was out Christmas Shopping with Maria, I happened to find a new version of the Magnetic Poetry. The *erotic* version of Magnetic Poetry. Maria laughed herself silly when she saw the box and told me that she never would of imagined that her little Lizzie would be so interested in erotic poetry. I shrugged and pretended to put the box away. As soon as Maria had left to look at other things, I rushed over and bought the box. Twenty dollars I didn't have down the drain… but… This could be even better than Scrabble.
------------------------------ I rubbed my hands together as I stared at the pieces on the refrigerator for a moment, thinking of the perfect poem. I started off by pulling down the HIS then pulled down the WARM right next to it. A few minutes later, I had: His warm lingering kiss, my swollen lips and breasts, only makes me ache. I nodded at the refrigerator, smiling and knowing that I had one very sexy alien in my grasp. As I heard the shower water turn off, I quickly ran and jumped on to Michael's old couch and pretended to be watching TV. Okay, Parker, I mentally assured myself. You gotta keep it cool, no reason to rush off to the bedroom before we have any - *fun* Suddenly, I felt his strong muscular arms wrap themselves around my shoulders. "Hey." Michael whispered in my ear and kissed my temple gently. "Hey yourself." I turned and quickly kissed Michael on the lips then settled back into my position on the couch. His eyes flickered with concern for a moment but then I set my plan into action. "Oh, Michael? Can you get me a soda? Please?" He nodded and then padded off to the kitchen. I stole a glance at him as he left and noticed he was only wearing a pair of jeans, slung low on his hips – dear lord, and no shirt. With great strength, I tore my eyes away from his hips and focused on the TV. About 5 minutes later, Michael flopped down next to me on the sofa. "Here." He handed me a soda and started watching TV. "Oh, I'm sorry Liz." He suddenly said, his eyes still riveted to the TV, "Can you go and get me some popcorn? And make sure you get the Tabasco from the fridge?" "Sure." I hopped up from the sofa and walked to the fridge, my heart fluttering. There, in the center of the fridge, it read: Slow and warm, the wet penetration makes us moan in pleasure As if I wasn't already getting wet, as I read the words on the fridge, I grew wetter. Starting to form a new poetic masterpiece, I peeked a backwards glance at Michael and I hurriedly started to rearrange the words into a new sentence. I chant your name, my body clenches and grinds your cock in pure pleasure. If you wanna play, Michael Guerin, beat that one, I thought as I wandered back to the couch and flopped down on it. "Here's your popcorn and Tabasco." His warm brown eyes searched mine for a minute and he smirked. I grinned back at him. "Michael, I'm sorry but can you go and get me some butter for the popcorn? I completely forgot." I smiled sweetly at him as I squeezed his leg. "No problem." A moment later, I heard Michael start coughing violently. I chuckled to myself happily, got him on that one. "Here, Liz." The butter spray landed in my lap out of nowhere seconds later. I looked up at Michael, startled and he shrugged. "Sorry." Settling down on the couch, he wrapped one arm around me and pulled me close. "Liz?" He whispered seductively in my ear. "Mmmm?" I murmured, tempted to slowly turn and run my tongue over the ridge of his earlobe. "Go get me a Snapple." My eyes widened in surprise and I shook my head at him as I got up from the couch and went to the fridge. My tongue worships your throbbing center, stroking the warmth. Damn. I opened the refrigerator door in an attempt to cool myself off. "That's what I thought, Parker." Michael suddenly whispered in my ear as he ran his hands up my body. "Maybe we should go make some poetry of our own." Spinning me around, all I could feel was his warm lips on mine. "Can I have the last poem to go?" I gasped as he bought his lips down to my neck. With a moan, he picked me up and carried me to his bedroom. Twenty dollars definitely well spent.
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