Sir Psycho Sexy - Chino and Eliza
Who: flying_squirrel - Eliza Dushku and remanufacture - Chino Moreno
Where: Spyner's Bar, KARAOKE
They're all out for Colleen's - Chi's wife - birthday, and the deal goes something along the lines of, she picks the songs and the singers, and because it's her birthday, they have to do it. And Chino gets... Red Hot Chili Peppers. Which wouldn't be bad, except that it's Sir Psycho Sexy, which is eight friggin' minutes of porn. Okay, even that doesn't sound that bad. What kind of sucks is that Annalynn is here, Colleen's here, Stef's girlfriend is here... and Chino's by himself. He wonders where Eliza is, if she's alright. If she misses hi-
-no, that's not what he wants to be thinking about, not with pitchers of beer and laughing and cat-calling. Chino gets up on stage, half-lit with all the beer he's drank, himself, and bobs along with the dirty-sleazy-raunchy bassline of the song. He's grinning. By the time he reaches the first chorus, he's laughing hard enough that he can barely sing.
There'd been this whole back and forth thing-- go and hang out with Chino's friends and get that whole 'are you his girlfriend' thing with stares because the girlfriends and wives would be there -- or not go and disappoint Chino, even though he probably wouldn't say a word. Eliza gets dressed up even, jeans, button down white shirt (with a bra, of course) and buttoned up to a decent level. Make up even.
Then she'd gotten to the door and had totally turned around and was ready to leave again. So fucking stupid! So with a growl, she pulls open the door and strides in, looking, she knows, fine. And she looks around and she sees Chi and the other guys and their women and --
What the fuck is Chino singing? Or trying to sing, anyway. Eliza's grinning-- she can't help it -- because he's laughing and he's got this totally awesome laugh, so she stands there, her hands on her hips and just grins at him.
Chino sees her, raising a hand in greeting, totally getting into the song - "Proppin' her up on the black and white, unzipped and slipped, whew, that's tight!" He even goes as far as grabbing himself, rolling his eyes in mock-pleasure. "I swatted her like no SWAT-team can, turned that cherry pie right into jam."
Stef grabs Eliza by one of her beltloops, tugging her up to the table. "Hey, you're here! You just about missed Chino making an ass out of himself..." He introduces Eliza to the other girls at the table as "Chino's girlfriend, don't worry, she's fierce!" and Abe goes to grab another glass from the bartender to pour out for her.
As gnarly as the song is, there's this one part where the smile fades from Chino's face, because, well... "Descending waves of graceful pleasure, for your love there is no measure... your curves, they bend with subtle splendor..."
Stef's girlfriend elbows Eliza, friendly. He'd said her name was something like Celeste, but it's noisy and Chino's all up on the mic, stomping around the stage-area when the funk kicks back in, and man, there's a lot of beer in mid-consumption. "Don't open your mouth, otherwise Colleen'll have you up singing for her, too!"
Eliza turns to her, briefly, and her eyes are wide. "Good to know. Thanks." But then she's turning back to Chino. "Have you guys been here long?" She asks, because the table's littered with glasses and empty pitchers and she's going to have to work to catch up and she can't keep her eyes off Chino and how he moves and it's like he moves in bed-- like he did last night -- and she can't help shifting in her chair.
Finally, finally the song's over, and Chino unwinds the mic cord from his wrist to stick it back in the stand. When he gathers Eliza up, he's really warm, eyes heavy and dark (as they always are, except right when he wakes up), with a smile that's just for her. "Y'gotta stop interrupting m- me when I'm singing! It's d- distracting." But now the distraction's in the circle of his arms, and he kisses her, warm and beer-flavoured and open. "You l- look awesome." The guys hoot at him, the girls hoot at her; none of them are quite used to seeing Chino a) with a girlfriend, or whatever she is, and b) being this open with his affections.
"What was that shit you were singing?" She asks, teasing, running the inside of her wrist along his hairline to collect the sweat that she wipes on her jeans. "Hi." Another kiss and screw whoever's watching.
With the amount of beer in his system, combined with the pot that he's always smoking, Chino tugs Eliza up on her toes, holding her by a secure hand on her ribs and another on her back. "H- hi. Chili's. An- an old song that-" He pauses, mouth working to say Chi's wife's name properly. "-Colleen wanted to hear." He falls into his seat, pulling Eliza with him onto his lap, arms loose around her hips.
"Mushmouth!" Stef announces, pushing a beer Eliza's way.
"Bite it," Eliza tells Stef in no uncertain terms. She picks up her beer and takes a long gulp, draining half the glass in a go before she grins back at Chino. "That was a pretty crazy song." And she leans closer. "And you're toasted." It's fucking adorable, you ask her.
"You're not the mushmouth, lady! He's used to me calling him that." But it's all in good nature, and he tops her beer up from halfway.
"I'm really t- toasted," Chino grins, meeting Eliza the rest of the way, his words slurred against her lips. "'c- cause think... I was up all n- night with you, and I had to- to work today." Just the thought of it, much like the thought that Eliza had while watching Chino get his Chilis on, causes Chino to shift just a bit in his chair. But unlike Eliza, he's got someone on his lap that can feel every twitch of muscle... or other things. He laughs, his nose tucked alongside hers, and repeats one of the lines: "Creamy beaver, hotter than a fever... I'm a giver 'cause she's a receiver..."
"Gross? Guys. Seriously." Chi throws a balled-up napkin at Chino's head, and without even looking, Chino catches it before it hits him.
Annalynn: "Children. That's enough." Laughter.
By this time, Eliza's unable to stop laughing. "Would everybody shut the hell up?!" And to Chino: "You just called my pussy a beaver. You are so toasted." She smirks. "Perv."
He leans back to look at her, smile crooked and loose and open. "I wasn't c- calling yours that. That's just the song." Chino pulls her in, fingers curled in the fabric of her shirt. "N- not sayin' it's not- it's not hotter than a fever though." His eyes drop down to her jeans and up to her face, and he entertains the thought of maybe touching her. In front of everyone. But... yeah, that's a bad idea, that'd get him thrown out, possibly arrested for indecent-whatever, and then he'd have to tell Mr. Downey why he spent the night in a cell. Bad idea. "'m hard." Stated matter-of-factly against Eliza's ears, for her ears only. As if she couldn't tell just by moving on his lap a little bit.
"I know you are, bad boy," she teases, rocking her hips, just a little. "What're we gonna do about that, huh?" Him being hard? Yeah, all that's doing is making her wet. She twines her fingers between his. Would it be bad to suck on one of his fingers just to watch him stare at her? Probably. His friends are all but forgotten.
"Chino has officially left the party," Abe announces solemnly, but he's only solemn long enough to refill the glasses around the table. Then he's air-drumming to whoever it is that thought it would be a good idea to do Master Of Puppets, until Annalynn swats at him.
Chino, on the other hand, has his hands in Eliza's hips, holding her against the hard jut of his erection, whispering against her ear how much he wants her, how he'd lick her pussy if he could, how, if she was wearing a skirt, he could fuck her right here. All of his words low, unsteady, stutter-slurred.
"Jesus fuck," she hisses, her forehead resting against his temple. She gives his table-ful of friends a look as she stands, tugging him up to standing. The bathroom is easy to find and hopefully, it's a one-stall wonder as she starts to pull him toward that. "You better do everything you told me you were gonna, stud." Arm around his waist steadies him, if needed and lets her feel his heat; it's intoxicating, always.
Talking dirty isn't something Chino does, but when he's only got a bit of blood in his alcohol stream, the filter between his mind and his mouth are gone. He leans on Eliza, not for support, but just to have her close, and snaps the deadbolt across. After all but wrenching her jeans open and down, he bends her over the sink. "I d- don't make prom- mises I can't k- keep."
Chino drops to his knees, uncaring of the dirty floor, first nudging Eliza's thighs apart, then spreading the curved swells of her ass cheeks. Then he licks her, slow and long, from clit to tailbone, pausing to whisper warmly, "J- Jesus, you're wet."
"You turn me on, fuck." Eliza slaps a hand against the mirror to brace herself. "Fuck. Fuck, Chino. Fuck." God, she loves how he touches her. And his tongue is hot and wet and she shudders. "I -- uuuuhn -- gotta get you to make more promises."
The thing that gets to Chino the most is Eliza's utter lack of inhibition; the way she swears, the way she moves, the way she tastes on his tongue, like she's been waiting all day for him. He holds her pussy open with a finger and thumb, licking the fingers on his other hand as he pushes them into her. "F- fuck," he husks, tactile on her skin. "You feel like s- silk."
"Oh, Christ." Inside her boots, her toes are curling and she pushes back on the mirror and get more. "Christ, Chino." She's fucking herself on his hand and so the fuck much for getting all dressed up. Her eyes slitted, she sees how she looks in the mirror. Like a slut. Such a fucking slut. For Chino. Nobody has ever gotten to her like he does. Nobody.
A glance up and Chino catches her looking at herself. He breathes a smile before rocking to his feet, the only thing separating the push of his cock against her, his pants. "W- what do you want more." Murmured behind her ear with his eyes closed, so he doesn't have to see himself. Chino rubs his fingers inside Eliza, feeling the way she tenses and relaxes, slick and hot.
Reaching back, Eliza digs her fingers into his hip. "Want you," she whispers. "Uhhhhn, fuck. Look at me," she says when she sees those closed eyes. "Chino, look at me when you fuck me." Cuz that? Is fucking molten hot. "C'mon, baby."
He opens his eyes, but they drop to watch what he's doing to Eliza, first with his fingers, then with the head of his cock once he fumbles his pants open. Only when he pulls her back onto his cock does Chino's gaze flick up to the mirror to meet Eliza's eyes. "Q- quick," he whispers. "We gotta be." Anything else he might want or mean to say gets lost in a shuddering breath as he thrusts, firm and smooth.
"Uhhhhn." She stares at him in the glass as she pushes back. Quick? When it feels so fucking good? Fuck. "Then look at me," she challenges, even as her cheeks flush. "Look at me." Eliza arches up as much as she can, her tits jutting forward through her bra and shirt. "Gonna do this later, when we're both naked." Still keeping his gaze, she licks over glossy lips. "Uhhhh."
Chino looks at Eliza through his lashes, and when she arches her back, he starts unfastening her buttons, wanting to actually see her in a bra, for once. He cups her breast through the filmy lace, pinching a nipple sharply, a grin sideways on his face as he watches Eliza's reactions.
"Ooh, fuck, yeah." Her lower lip is caught between her teeth. "You like what you see, baby? Mmm." Arching back more, she reaches over her head to catch his hair and pull him closer to kiss her, all awkward angles and need.
He's still nodding when she kisses him, his head loose on his shoulders as if he's the puppet and she's the mistress. Hips moving much more steady than Chino himself feels, like the cogs and gears that make him up are all slightly jarred. "Eliza." whispered on the back of her neck. He hopes she knows. Just by how he looks at her. The thought of it twists something dark and hot in his guts, and his rhythm stalls for half a second.
She can see him through her hair, almost like he's hiding from her, even as he making her whole body feel alive. "Chino. Look at me," she groans. She wants to see it. She does. If she sees it enough, maybe it'll come true. Even after they'd sat in his bed all night that night and she'd told him whatever she'd thought to tell him. And he'd held her. And kissed her. So she might believe him. Maybe. Maybe that's why she now calls him 'baby.'
He lifts his head, eyes still shaded with how heavy they are, mouth parted on rough breath. Chino hasn't said It out loud after the first time, but Eliza knows. Just on a glance, or a smile. He pulls her just far enough away from the sink that he can slip his fingers down so the back-forth motion of their bodies pushes her into his hand. "Baby." A word on a breath, on a smile.
The way he says that makes her shiver. All throaty and raspy and sexy. Eliza bucks back against him. "Mmm, baby. Love your big." Push. "Fat." Another push. "Cock." She groans with how his hand is going to make her come, so fast, so fucking fa--
It's nearly a shriek before she bites it back as she comes.
Chino feels her come before her voice gives her away, and god only knows how his reflexes are still this fast, but he pulls Eliza's head back to kiss the sounds from her mouth. As for him... on the first breath he pulls when his mouth slips off of hers, it hits him like a two-by-four, with all the same subtlety, and it forces a short sound out of his chest.
"Oh, fuck," she whispers, feeling him jerk, hand back in his hair so she can watch him come, watch how rapt his face gets. She loves it. "Now my beaver's all creamy," she says, licking over his mouth with a grin. "Sexy."
After a long pause, Chino starts to laugh. "Y- you kill me." Chino kisses the back of Eliza's neck. "We- we gotta get out of h- here."
"Yeah, I gotta wipe your come off me, big boy." When he pulls out, she turns, though, leaning against the sink, and pulls him in for a real, non-neck-craning kiss, holding him there so she can look at him in the wonky light of the bar john. "Damn," she whispers, her smile softening, just a little, tone tinged with something warm she'd be unable to name.
He's still reeling on his feet, just a little bit, and Chino reflects Eliza's smile before ducking in to touch his cheek to hers. "S- sorry about that." After another slow kiss, Chino grabs her a handful of paper towel. For all that he's always been so safe, the idea of just... of just having Eliza whenever he wants, whenever she wants, all restless, grabbing hands and gasped breath is too much to resist. Even if the result's a little... messy.
Taking the towels, she scrubs there and has to laugh-gasp because of the residual tingle before tossing them and starting to put herself back together, all the while watching his face, a small smile on her own. "We going back out there? Or we going ho-- back to your place?"
Chino buttons up Eliza's blouse for her, taking a moment to cup both her breasts through it once it's closed. "G- go out for a couple more songs. Then we'll go h- home." He says what she stops herself from saying, even though they don't live together. She spends a lot of time at his place, enough that she's even got some clothes there, a toothbrush, some of her toiletries. And it's been good to have her there.
"Okay, shit." Turning her upper body, Eliza tries to bring her hair back into some order. Her lipstick's a lost cause and she so looks like they've just fucked. Good thing she's got no real shame. Turning back to Chino, she asks, smiling. "How do I look?"
He tidies up the gloss-smear of her mouth with the pad of his thumb, and smiles. "B- beautiful." He's drunk enough that he's past the point of caring that even with his pants done up, they hang low on his hips, below the hem of his hoodie. "Y'gotta s- see Stef get up there. It's wicked." His hand falls to hers, lacing their fingers together, and when he unlocks the door, it's to two much disgruntled bar patrons, who give them both the dirtiest looks before pushing past them and into the washroom. Chino laughs.
Staying close to him, Eliza slips into his lap when they get back to the table and reaches for (what she hopes, anyway) is her beer. "I hear you do good Karaoke, dude. You should get up there," she tells Stef. "So me 'n mushmouth can see you."
Chino has to hide his face against Eliza's shoulder to stifle his laughter. It'd been a sore spot with him all through growing up, the way he'd stumble on certain words and sounds, but his friends had made that insult into an endearment, something with no malice behind it. And to hear it come out of Eliza's mouth just makes it even better.
But Stef's name gets called, and he lightly pinches Eliza's arm before heading up to the mic. "Now if only I had the tie-off shirt and kilt," he tosses over his shoulder, before Baby One More Time starts up. Better yet, Chino's singing along, his beer in one hand and his other hand flat on Eliza's belly, holding her on his lap.
"Oh my fucking God," she crows, unable to help it. "You know this song. That you know this song? Is fucked up. Seriously fucked up! Fuck." All she can do is shake her head before drinking more beer, toasting Stef and his balls for doing that.
Chino's already nosing at Eliza's jaw when the song finishes and Stef comes back to the table to sit on Celeste's lap as she whacks at him to get off her. "Th- think we should go? I think I've p- probably had enough..." He's had more than enough, with the line of shots before Eliza had arrived, and between the eight of them here now, nearly ten pitchers over the course of the night. His breath is warm and alcoholic on her skin, voice husky and blurry and promising. "We'll c- cab. An' then I c'n see what that- that bra really looks like."
That was fast. But Eliza's far from complaining, rising again and helping to tug Chino up. "I'm taking the lush home. Happy birthday," she tells Colleen. "Good to see all of you."
"She comes, she fucks, she leaves!" Stef stands as well, hugging Eliza first, then clapping a hand on Chino's shoulder. "Do not puke on the hot babe."
"No p- puke. I promise." Chino holds up his hand like a boyscout, his other arm around Eliza, tucking her against him. He hopes they understand - he remembers what it was like when they all started with their wives/girlfriends. How with just a look or a word, it was Time To Leave. But he adds in his best Wayne voice, sliding his hand up Eliza's ribs, perilously close to her right breast, "If I blow chunks and she comes back, she's m- mine. If I spew and she bolts, it was n- never meant to be." And with that as his parting words, he weaves through the other people in the bar, still holding Eliza, until the cold night air is all but an explosion on the two of them. "I'm s- sorry I'm so l- liquored. Shit."
"Dude, if you spew on me? I will make you pay, no joke." She smirks up at him, arm around his waist. The street is quiet, though. Getting a cab is going to suck. So with one more look around, she turns to face him straight-on. "Do you trust me to get you home in one piece?"
He wonders, honestly wonders, what she's got in mind. "Y- yup."
"Okay." Tiptoes for a kiss, then she turns her back on him, backing her back into his chest and pulling his arms around her neck, crossing her arms to hold him tight. "Don't even think of letting go." It takes some work pushing off, but then they're floating up, over the levels of rooftops, heading toward home.
The noise that Chino makes is hilarious, except for the part where it feels like he's going to drop to his death at any second now. There's no way she could be strong enough to hold both of them, to fly both of them back to his place, and he's muttering against the back of her neck, eyes tight-shut, "Put me down, put me down, put me d- down, put me down-"
"Relax," she laughs. "It's okay. You said you trust me. So relax." It's slow going, not fast like she'd be on her own, but kind of a leisurely stroll in flying terms. "Look around. Enjoy."
Chino shakes his head against her hair. It's not that he doesn't trust her, but he doesn't trust himself, afraid his grip on her is going to slip; she'll be gone and he'll be dead.
Eliza just smirks as they navigate over buildings, just so that they won't be spotted errantly. "Can we get into your place from the roof?" She asks.
"Yeah," Chino croaks, tightening his hold around her. "C- can we land? Are we there? Y'g- gotta put me down." This is nothing like being in a plane. A plane has seats, seatbelts, a floor under his feet and a roof over his head. He can feel the wind, hear the honk of traffic. But at least Chino has the familiarity of Eliza, how she feels, how she smells (like the wind itself, but sweeter), and her confidence should reassure him. But.
"Gimme a second here." And it's more like a minute before they land on his building, because it's taller and takes a bit longer to get up there. But they do land on the roof and she's super-careful to put him down easy. "There, you baby. We made it."
"I think I'm gonna puke." But there's no real motive behind it, it's just the sudden surge of relief to have something solid under his feet."D- drinking and flying, not really my- my method of moving around..." Chino covers his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to settle the flip-flop of his guts, his hands drop to his pockets, patting around for his keys. "Here. H- here. Hopefully by the time we get d- downstairs I'll feel human again." If he's teasing her already, this is a good sign.
"Big baby," she answers, finding and taking his keys, after spying the door to the stairs. 'That's eco-friendly travel there." But she holds his hand and guides him gently. "Poor baby. I'll take care of you," her voice lilting with teasing. "Will showing you my tits help?"
Chino follows her into the stairwell, only answering her once the roof door is securely locked behind them. "That always h- helps." He unzips his hoodie, plucking at the front of his shirt a bit. "G- got me the first time, didn't it?"
"Yep," She answers, grinning. "You love my tits." She matches her pace to his, her hand still in his. "... do you think about that a lot? That first time?"
"It's t- true. I do." Amongst other things. "Yeah," he says, slowly. "I d- do. I wonder if- if this-" What they're doing now, what they have now, "-is w- what you thought it'd end up as." Chino takes his keys from Eliza's hand, leading her through the door to his floor, to his apartment, unlocking it. "Is it?"
Wow, that's a loaded question. How can Eliza answer that? He's drunk, so drunk. Maybe he'll forget, either way. Her face behind her hair, she says, "I didn't think about it much." And that's not a lie. She was childishly hopeful, but for what, she isn't even sure.
He nods; it's an honest enough answer. He sure wasn't expecting it to turn into this, so why should she? Whatever it was that either of them were thinking then doesn't matter now, because... that's how it is. That's that and this is this, with Chino pushing Eliza's hair back from her face to catch her lips with his. "Y- you said something 'bout 'when we g- got home...'"
He tastes like beer and like Chino and she smiles against his mouth. "You sure you're not too drunk to get it up?" Already, she's undoing her shirt; he did say he wanted to see her bra after all. And it's a nice one too. All peach lace with a plunging front. "You're pretty toasted."
"I did it once already," Chino grins. "And- and if I can't, I'll g- go down on you 'til you d- don't even know your own name." Just saying.
"Mmm. Is that a promise?" Her eyes are warm and her smirk is sharp as she eases her shirt off and tosses it over the end of the sofa.
"Yup." Chino looks her over, with her jeans low on her hips and a bra that- well. His hands, ever-sure, palm on her ribs, pulling her close, and Chino ducks to kiss the swell of breast that shows above, then moves down to brush his lips over her nipple through the fabric. "D- don't think I'll have that much of a problem..." Husky and warmly breathed through the lace, and Chino takes one of Eliza's hands to press it to the front of his pants. "S- see? 'pparently I'm about s- sixteen around you."
"Fuck," she gasps out, kneading that nice bulge there. "What does that make me?" Her free hand goes over her head, into her hair as she arches her back. More. Not a request as much as a demand in the way her spine curves.
"Huh- hotter than hell." He moves to her other breast, plucking a nipple lightly with his teeth. "Unzip me."
"Bossy. Nnngh." But she does, reaching under the button to pull down his fly, tugging at it to make it work. Then Eliza slips her hand inside, finding the opening of his boxers so she can wrap her hand around his dick, hard, pulsing in his hand. "You can fuck my tits if you want," she offers, breathy, flushed.
Chino's cock jerks in her hand at the very thought of it, the mental image as clear and detailed as any photograph, any movie. "A- awkward," Chino mumbles. "But- nnh." His hips sway forward under her touch. "Th- that sounds really good." He drags kisses between her breasts, then up between her collarbones, up the swan-line of her neck, to her mouth. "But you wouldn't g- get off. I wanna make you come."
"Not like you can't do both, just not at the same time," she reminds him. She strokes him, collecting the precome when she slides her hand to the base of his cock. "Whatever you want to do, you can." It's an offering that she doesn't make lightly, even if said off-the-cuff. "Ass, tits, pussy, mouth, whatever." I'm yours. All of me.
"Huh." It's not an offer he takes lightly either, even as drunk as he is, and Chino's hands slip down again to the hem of her jeans, circling light fingers to the front to unfasten her jeans. Again. And pull them down. Again. And again, and again, and he couldn't get tired of this if he was doing it every single day. Except for the part where he sort of is doing it every day...
"I'm a- a big fan of making you come," he says unsteadily, hips twitching in fits and starts into her palm. "You asked if- if I jerk off when I'm high. Yeah. 'c- 'cause of you."
That's, as weird as it sounds, nearly as touching as The Three Words and ones that Eliza is much more capable of taking in stride. "If I've been giving you time to jerk off, I've been doing something wrong," she says, throaty, mouth at his neck. "Tell me what you want, baby. Whatever you want."
Chino breathes out something like ah, tipping his head back even as he's pushing her panties aside to arch his fingers into her pussy. "Y- you're not at work with me." His other hand finds Eliza's hair, fisting in it, lightly. "You. J- just you. To-" Another one of those sucked, sudden breaths, before he can talk again. "To say my name. To scream it. T- to be in you so ff- fuck. So far that I don't know where to start or stop."
Her breath catches again and Eliza sombers; he'll never not do this to her, she realizes. He'll always surprise her. Make her feel when she doesn't expect to. Force her heart open. His hand holding her head steady, she watches him, unable to look away as he abandons himself to this. To her. Her grip on him tightens, strokes slow and steady, even as her toes curl from how he's touching her, and she runs her tongue over dry lips. "Chino," she murmurs, "whatever you want."
Chino wouldn't force Eliza to do anything she isn't willing to do, but he does forget what he's promised her, under the stroke of her hand and the twist of his fingers. His other hand tightens in her hair as Chino kisses her, open and panted, and warns in that same breathy, slurred wash of voice, "D- don't get dru- unh- drunk-dick. Get t- trigger-happy." the more the tension ratchets up, the harder he rubs his fingers in Eliza, hiding his face against hers.
Her own breathing hitched and panted, Eliza relaxes her neck, his hand holding her in place, her mouth rubbing against his as she rocks to the balls of her feet with sharp pleasure. Her eyes are slits. "You gonna come for me, baby?" She gasps out. "Do it, then. Uhhh. Do it."
"Yeah," he whispers on her lips, and that's all; his hips jerk up, spattering come on her fingers, her hip, the hem of his shirt. Chino's fingers tense and push into Eliza.
Jerking forward and almost bashing her head against his, she hisses. Close. So fucking close that she's shaking with it. She's still pumping him through it, his come all over her hand. "Uh, fuck. Fuck. Chino!"
Now his hand is tight in her hair, kissing her hard and off-center and open while his legs shake with jagged aftershocks. And even so: "Don't stop. D- don't stop." Chino blatantly fucks Eliza with his fingers, pulling her head back to bite at her throat, to leave his mark in her skin.
"Nggh!" There's that cold edge of pain to this now and Eliza could feel her orgasm building. The way she's jerking him now is erratic and tight as the bite pulls her over with a open-throated scream.
Chino's hand drops from Eliza's hair to the small of her back, holding her up against him. "B- bed. Now."
Easier said that done, what with her jeans wrenched open like that. But with one hand holding them up, she pulls her other away from his cock and it's come-covered, sticky. "Are you gonna pass out on me, big boy?" She asks, with a smile against his chin as they start to move.
Panting, Chino pulls his hand free as well, visibly unsteady on his feet. "I th- think so. Sorry." He presses apologetic kisses to her mouth. "W- wake me up if you want to. Again..." The cant of his smile tells Eliza how much he'd like that, and how good she makes him feel.
"Lay down. C'mon." Her sticky hand now holds up her jeans and Eliza hooks her arm around Chino's waist and pulls him toward the bed and pushes him down there, rolling him to his back so she can pull off his shoes, socks and work his jeans off.
He helps where he can, hand pressed over his eyes, reaching for Eliza when she's done. "'m sorry, 'liza. H- hey, hey." Chino pulls her in, his kisses like words, ghosting on her skin. He says It, he means It, even as he dozes off, mouth to mouth with her.
She flushes bright red when she hears it. But as he falls asleep, she pets over his hair and she kisses his lips, and his forehead. "Goof," she whispers, peering down at him, her face soft in a way it rarely is when someone can see her. Another kiss and she lingers, before going to wash up. Then she'll curl around him and not wake up until he does.
L-R: Chino Moreno, Stef Carpenter, Chi Cheng, Frank Delgado, Abe Cunningham
And a shark.
Red Hot Chili Peppers - Sir Psycho Sexy
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