suicidemission | OPEN RP

"Mmm. Hand it here, then."

So he can open it, then maybe doze...

If she lets him.

She will, if he lets her doze off with her head on his chest, because that might become a possible thing. It's not them - no, wrong; it's not typical of the people they were before the world went back to 'normal', but who's to say it's not them? His chest always beckons.

Except in this case. After she hands him the bottle, she directs her attention to the raspberries, opening the box and putting one on each fingertip of one hand. Childish, yes, and also cute and whimsical, and who's to say it can't be her? She's wearing a dress and is on an actual picnic, she can eat raspberries off her fingers like this.

He pops the bottle open with little effort and is about to pour them each a glass when his attention is refocused on Mako and that --

Fuck, that's the cutest goddamn thing he's ever seen anyone do in his life.

"Can I have one?"

She could offer him the box, easily. She could reach into it and pick a raspberry and give feed it to him. Or she could do what she does instead.

She holds her hand out, fingertips still wrapped in fruit, a wave of something sweeping through her.

"You can."

He grins, and leans in to very carefully take her hand with his to steady it, head dipping to carefully pull one of the berries off of her finger with his lips and tongue.

And he lingers, licking to juice off, sliding his tongue over her skin.

She should've expected that. She expects the arousal that sweeps her up, welcomes it like an old familiar friend. His tongue on her fingertips, his tongue on the inside of her palm.

"You can have all of them." There's a hint there: take them.

He smirks up at her then looks back down and scoots closer to her, moving on to the second finger, this time moving slower, a little more erotically. His cock is twitching in his pants, threatening to harden right here in public but he doesn't care.

He's more interested in the sticky sweet juice running down her hand and lapping it up and the way the berries taste in conjunction with her skin.

There's barely anyone in this corner of the park but them, no-one to see the telling signs of arousal but Mako. And she sees them, and feels them mirrored in herself, unconsciously leaning forward, towards him. Her free hand pressed against the ground on top of the blanket, the box of fruit left forgotten next to them.

She's holding her breath, until he laps at her fingers again, and then it's expelled in a shuddery sigh, her teeth pulling at her lower lip.

He moves even closer, tightens his grip on her hand and goes for the third berry, sucking the length of her finger into his mouth and drawing back up slowly, carefully, sensually.

Chuck can tell she's leaning forward too, and he's got a free hand there and he reaches for her, gently moving to pull her into his lap.

She does it as if with practiced ease. Straddles him and settles down into his lap, her skirt falling in a circle around them. By the time his finger reaches the berry, she's grinding down against him, the seam of his jeans pressed against her covered slit tight.

One more to go.

He's hard as a rock by now, breath coming in staccato like pants, uneven and labored. He's going for that last berry though, wanting that last taste of something sweet, of juice and skin and Mako.

She notices, it would be impossible not to notice, not to feel it hard against her covered sex. Her finger hooks his mouth at the last minute, squashing the berry against the back of his teeth and tugging him closer. Hand sticky from the fruit and all, she grabs his chin with it, and leans down to kiss him, hard and breathless and fast.

He kisses her back with equal ferver, crushing her against him as he kisses the breath from her lips.

He's kind of grinding up against her too, hips pressing against her, a low rumble echoing from his chest.

She shudders, her fingers sliding up into his hair to pull him close, her hips stuttering down against him. He's hard, and she's so wet that the fabric of her panties rubs against her folds with every grind.

Teeth scrape across his lips, her words breathed against them. "Do you want -"

"I want you-" he breathes against her mouth, hips rocking up, hands desperate for contact as they slide up her sides, squeeze gently at her breasts then trail back down to her hips.

"Dunno how -- how appropriate that is--"

"Very inappropiate," she breathes against his, her words faltering at the ending syllables for the way he squeezes her breasts, the way he rubs against her. She's in danger of leaving a smudge on the front of his jeans, he's in danger of doing the same.

She shivers, and pulls her skirt up slowly to the top of her thighs, her view of him unobstructed. "There's no-one around--" is the explanation she gives, to reaching down and unfastening his pants, lowering the zipper carefully before drawing his cock out. With both hands busy, the skirt falls again, hiding from view the fact that she's jerking him off slowly in the middle of a park, in the middle of the day. It's his fault, for sucking on her fingers like that.

No one around.

Okay, fine. He's fine with that because she's got her hands around his dick and he's sucking in a gasp, automatically slipping a hand back beneath her skirt to stroke her inner thigh.

There is not a single chance for that stroke to be even remotely enough for what Mako wants out of him, suddenly. He's so hard in her hands already, it makes her want to grind down against him in the filthiest of ways.

Insteady, she leans down and kisses him on the corner of his mouth, breathlessly ordering, "Pull my panties aside, Chuck." Low tone and heady sigh, the situation sending a shiver up her spine. "I'm going to fuck you like this."

He doesn't even hesitate -- not this time. He nods, hooks a finger in the material and sweeps them aside, pulling them out of the way.

She's so fucking wet for him he sucks in a surprised gasp, fingers tracing over her and sliding between soft folds before glancing up at her, waiting for his cue.

She wants to, but she doesn't look at him as she steadies herself with one hand on his shoulder, the skirt falling down and hiding them both, and with her other hand guides his cock to her entrance, sinks down with a satisfied hiss. She's wet enough that he slides in and she slides down, and only when she's taken him to the hilt does she move her hand up to his shoulder as well.

"Mmh - so hard," she murmurs in thrilled compliment, her voice carrying with the light breeze. For now, that's it, just staying still with him inside her, the girth of his cock spreading her, filling her. She lifts one hand and brushes her fingertips over his brow, tightening around him experimentally.

She slides down and he has to lean forward and bury his face into her neck in order to muffle the groan that - no matter how far people were away, they'd be sure to hear.

"Jesus," he hisses, figners clutching, gripping, tugging on fabric, "you---you were already so damn wet, Mako--"

"Shh- don't-" she murmurs back, her hands stilling his where he's tugging on fabric. The sundress she's in is delicate enough that any desperate grip from his hands will rip it, and that thought - while the timing is poor for it - makes her tighten.

"I -- for you," she manages to get out, her mouth pressed near his ear, an open-mouthed kiss left against the skin under it, the imprint of her lipstick a mark of sort. "It's all for you..."

He's tempted to just -- fuckign rip it off of her. Seriously, he wants to tear it from her frame and get her on her back, legs in the air while he fucks her soundly, but a sense of propriety keeps him from doign that -- as well as jealousy, because like hell is anyone else seeing any sliver of skin that dress happens to be hiding.

So they move like this, Chuck grinding up against her, jerking her down on his lap and over his cock, eyes clouded with lust, lips parted and panting.

There would be little protest found from her, in any other circumstance. Being pounded into the mattress, her legs in the air, his breath on her skin, it's exhilarating and so good, as she's been discovering. But riding him slow in public, in the wide open air, it's something too.

"Nobody will buy it," she murmurs it against his lips. "One look at your face, they'll know."

"Guess I better hide it," he hisses, dipping his head forward to bury his face between her breasts, breathing hot and damp against the fabric of her dress where it meets her skin.

His hips snap up and he jerks her down and he's trying not to rip her dress but God, does he want to.

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