Title: Replaced
Author: DMartinez
Disclaimer: All characters portrayed in the following belong to Melinda Metz,
Jason Katims and UPN. No infringement intended.
Rating: NC-17
Category: Mi/L
Summary: What does it take to be replaced?
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Replaced
Liz looked up from her locker when she felt someone staring intensely. Michael leaned on a set of locker three rows down. "Hey Michael. What are you doing here so late?"
He didn't say a word, just closed the distance between the two of them. The lights down the hall shut off. Set by set, they all shut off, leaving only the pale glow of the auxiliary lights. Odd shadows settled over the corridor.
"Wow. It's later than I thought." Liz whispered softly. "Guess the science club ran over today." An odd feeling swept upon her. Michael's gaze was making her uncomfortable. It felt as if he were undressing her from head to toe. "Michael?"
"I don't see what the beg deal is. Max could do better." Michael paused but Liz knew what he was talking about. She barely had time to brace herself when he started in. "You're too short, your tits are practically nonexistent... not to mention that you're annoying as hell."
"That's... not... very nice." Liz bit her lip to make an attempt at hiding her hurt at his disapproval. Was that the best she could come up with?
"Witty, too." Michael nodded his head up and down. He went on, examining her features in the weak light from the walls. He stepped closer, invading her personal space. "I guess I could see how the eyes and hair could suck him in... speaking of which; you've got the lips for it."
Another step forward caused Liz to turn and face him, while backing up only to run into her locker. "What are you doing?"
"Trying to figure out the attraction. Why in the world would he love you more than me and Iz?" Michael stepped closer and trailed a hand down from the top of her head to her shoulder. "You got this fuck-me long hair and the do-me eyes, definitely the suck-me lips... round cheeks... perfect for holding cum... do you spit or swallow?"
"Stop it."
"You're short. I couldn't kiss you comfortably." Michael slid his hand to her neck, thumb running over her pulse. He watched her eyes flutter close at the motion. "But you're little. Tiny really." To prove it, he dropped his hand to her waist and hoisted her up against the locker, pushing a leg between her thighs to keep her from falling. "Little waist... nice." His thumbs rubbed her sides, fingers massaging her back, almost meeting over her spine. Then his hand slid upwards, caressing her ribs before cupping her breast. "Guess I could see what a turn on it is to hold the whole tit in your hand."
"Stop..." She breathed out, protesting weakly. She focused her eyes on the locker across the hall, trying to keep her head straight. She could feel his breath on her face as he spoke. She could do nothing but clench her fists at her sides.
Michael followed his hands with his eyes. He massaged her breast, watching it undulate, felling its softness and lack of weight. Then slid back down her ribs, feeling each indentation and groove. "You are so skinny." His hands curved down over her hip and then cupped her ass. "Maybe it's this tight little body..."
"Please..."
"Please what?" Michael mocked her and slid his other hand down her leg, squeezing and lifting. "Nice and firm. Bet they would feel good wrapped around me." Gripping his ass tight, then pressing his middle against her. His hand left her tight and slipped between her thighs. Under her skirt his hand met with her underwear. "Even your underwear is mousy. Maybe that's the appeal. Girl next door in mousy clothes and tidy whities. What's this?"
"Ah... don't." Liz gasped but it was too late. His fingers pulled aside her panties to touch her soft, wet curls. They slid along the strands with a feather light touch, making her legs tremble with tension.
"Wow. I would have never thought you could get this wet. Is this for me?" Michael gently pushed his fingers closer to her flesh. He found her clit and danced around it, listening to her gasps for air, then pressed his finger down her slit to her opening. "Maybe it's the promise of this tight, tight pussy." He pushed his finger inside her and was met with contracting muscles. "You're a virgin, aren't you? Guys like that... You need to tell Kyle to stop telling stories about you..."
"Michael... please..." She begged. What was she begging for? For him to stop? For him to finish what he started? She kept on pleading at his insistent probing of her sex. She gasped when another finger joined in, moving in a steady rhythm. "OH please... uh... don't."
"'Please', 'don't'. You keep starting these sentences but you never finish them. Please what? Don't what?" Michael scoffed and cocked his head to the side. "Didn't know you'd be this loud. Does a little something to the little man."
Liz gasped again as she realized her whole body was hot, needing a release of some kind. Finally, she found her voice. "Please don't fucking stop."
"Whoa. Ms. Parker, who do you kiss with that dirty mouth?" Michael teased roughly and was again caught by surprise when Liz lifted her arms from her sides and clutched onto his arms. Her legs wrapped around his waist.
"You had better finish what you started, Michael Guerin." Liz growled softly then let out a helpless gasp. "I feel like I'm dying."
When he made no move to do anything, her hands shot down to his waist, searching for his fly to open it. She could feel the bulge beneath it and knew he hadn't been unaffected by what he was doing to her. He stopped his torture and stilled her hands. "I might be a bastard but I'm not a dick. We do this and there ain't no going back."
"Then get busy already." She pulled open the buttons closing his fly and pushed down at both jeans and briefs...
"Liz!" Michael's voice snapped her to attention. Liz blinked suddenly and noted the dark hallway around them.
"Wow it's later than I thought." She went back to gathering her books from her locker. "Guess the science club ran over today."
"Yeah you said that already." He shook his head in confusion at her.
"What are you doing here so late?" Liz shook her head to clear it of the fantasy she'd just had.
"You said that already, too." He looked down at his feet. "I was waiting for you. Counselor said that if I don't get better grades, I won't graduate. Can you help me?"
"Um, sure." Liz nodded vigorously.
"Catch you later then." He looked her over once again and turned to go.
Liz sagged against her locker, pressing her forehead to the cool metal. "Get it together, Parker. Just because he replaced Max for this one fantasy doesn't mean anything."
"Hey Liz!" Michael's voice carried down the hall. "C'mon. I'll give you a ride home then we can see when we can get together."
"Okay. Be right there." Liz called back and groaned inwardly. Motorcycle, Michael. It induced another fantasy but she quickly shook herself out of it. It would never happen anyway.
**END**