suicidemission | OPEN RP

That's part of the allure, really -- that they're in public, he's fucking Mako Mori in public, and it's so taboo that it gets him hard and eager and a little rough.

Noises he makes are muffled against her lips and he nips her lightly, then sucks sharply on her tongue, groan swallowed up in the hungry kiss.

Barely muffled against her lips. Barely muffled, and neither are hers. The frantic way she moves her hips, the moment just before she pulls away to see if anyone's in sight before she rides him fast and hard for a few blissful seconds -

- and slows down again. "Shhh," she laughsighs against the corner of his mouth.

"Don't shh me," he mumbles back, lips pulling up though he's panting because fuck damn, she's driving him wild and if she does that a few more times he's gonna end up fucking coming like a preteen.

Still makes her laugh, her muscles clenching up with the motion, until one laugh turns into a groan turns into a grunt turns into Mako steadying her hips down against him because that was one hell of a forewarning shudder.

She'd like nothing more than to push him down on the grass and ride him like that again, but their circumstances don't allow for it. Instead, she rocks her hips gently back and forth, squeezing him tight and greedy. "Look - ah - at you, Chuck, it's like...you want...to get caught..."

He groans at that, fucking hell, Mako.

"Well." He gasps between pants and a chuckle, "certainly makes for a bit of a thrill, doesn't it?"

"Never had you pegged," she lies, laughing against his mouth as she continues and struggles to keep moving. It's difficult business, when they're in public and all she wants is to screw his brains out.

Being Mako is suffering.

What a hard life indeed.

He bucks up against her, slamming inside of her with a snort - punishment for that little lie.

Such a choked moan there has never been, so shocked and wanton, curled around her throat like a noose. "Ghhn - Chuck, come...on..."

He makes a noise that mimics and rivals her own, slams into her again, bucks his hips up and fucks into her as rough and deep as he can in this position, fingers dropping to her hips to keep her steady.

It's very likely that there's nobody trailing them, nobody watching them, nobody walking near them in the park at this hour, and if they were, well - there's not a lot of dirt to be gathered on the heroes of the world, no matter what they might get up to doing, so - it doesn't really matter.

So she does groan, she does grunt and huff and moan, does whimper above him and lets him take the lead for a while, until sweat beads up beneath her dress, and she is so slick that every thrust makes the lewdest of noises.

She's fucking amazing, everything about her. And oh god does he want her to come like this, right here in the open, because of him. It makes him move quicker, thrusting up into her, panting noisily against her lips, fingers digging, pulling, teeth nipping.

"C'mon," he hisses into her mouth, lips curved up, jerking her tight to him, angling himself to thrust deeper.

It generally takes longer than this for her, but today it works. Slow and hard and followed by a frenzy and a struggle to keep this tryst subtle when she feels the same need to be spread under him or ride him faster than this. But for now, this is it.

She lets out a strangled gasp, her hands somehow finding his face, cupping it with both palms, fingers under his ears, forehead pressed to his and eyes wide mouth wide lungs wide - and - "Haah--" goes.

Usually takes him a little longer too -- Chuck prides himself on his stamina, his ability to hold out until Mako shrieks his name or at least, shrieks the Mako equivalent because she is as prideful as he is -- but not this time.

This time, he's bucking up into her and groaning as she flexes and tenses around him, mouth pressing agaisnt her neck to muffle the noises he wants to make as she drags his climax out of him, ripping it from him with claws and teeth, like she always does.

It kind of does not hit her - doesn't fit - that she's supposed to stop and drop into a satisfied sprawl on the blanket; not yet. She still moves, still trembles and writhes above him as he comes and chokes a low groan against his shoulder, her lipstick smeared against his shirt and his neck from the pressure and movement.

They're a right mess. Smeared makeup, panted breathes, sweat shining on sex flushed skin. Were anyone close enough it would be painfully obvious as to what they were up to but mercifully the area is clear and no one has paid them any mind.

He clings to her, fingers pressing hard and rough into her skin, arms tight around her slender frame, face pressing into the crook of her neck.

In the aftermath is when she takes full note of the mess; the slick stickiness between her legs - which she observes with a satisfied flutter - the sweat down her back, behind her knees, under her dress, at her hairline. She doesn't have a mirror, but it wouldn't be necessary; she looks fucked right now, she's sure of it.

"That was..." Are they supposed to stay for the picnic now or go at it again against the tree, because she can't tell which is more likely by the way they still cling.

OPEN RP

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