He's got a thing for red lips. When they get all dressed up—which rarely happens—and she pulls out that red lipstick, he's mesmerized by just how beautiful her lips look when they're colored. The same goes for now, as they sit in the otherwise almost abandoned old 7/11 parking lot listening to music with the windows down in his dinosaur of a beat up car. She's drinking a cherry slurpee, coloring the inner parts of her lips red. Her feet are up on the dashboard and she's leaned back in her seat, her one foot moving along to the beat of her favorite song, playing on the old radio. It's one of the rare days that she leaves her hair down, and he loves the way the summer breeze coming in from the open windows blows it around gently.
He's already finished with his raspberry slurpee, the small container thrown carelessly somewhere in the backseat of his car. Annie, on the other hand, takes time with her cold cherry drink; she hates the oppressive heat of the summer, and this always helps to cool her down. That's why Bertholdt's surprised when she sets it down in the backseat cup holder, before maneuvering the passenger's seat back to its normal stature and tucking as much of her fringe as she can behind her ear.
Her fingers are on him quickly, cold from holding the frozen drink, tugging at the zipper on his jeans. He's beyond confused, ready to ask her what she's doing, but he isn't able to get the question out—for the very next moment, her fingers are working at him, stroking him down and making him harder with each tiny movement she makes. She leans further over, and before he knows it her mouth is on his tip. Her lips and tongue are both freezing from the slurpee, and he lets out a long moan as she presses that cold tongue against him, moving down inch by inch slowly. He blushes profusely, realizing the windows are down and embarrassed that he's making so much noise when people could hear. He doesn't see any cars in the parking lot around them, but a few people are at the small gas station, so he brings his hand to his mouth and bites down, trying not to make more noise.
She lets her fingertips dance over him, before running down and resting on his thighs as she props herself up a little, giving herself more leverage. She moves slowly, wanting to drag this on for him, moving back up him. She looks up from behind sprawled about hair, gauging his reaction. He writhes when her eyes meet his, bucking his hips up and letting out a strangled noise. The car is growing warmer and warmer, but he finds it hard to care about that when she breaks eye contact, bringing her hands back on him as she lets her mouth take a break.
She gives a little tug, careful not to hurt him, before keeping one hand propped on his thigh and letting the other roam about his length, enjoying the muffled sounds he makes. She brushes her fingers over his tip, before sliding back down him, twisting her hand around him as she moves it up and down.
His free hand grabs for her hair once she moves back down, placing her lips on him again. She takes the head into her mouth, teasing him with her tongue there, making sure to keep her hand moving on him, too. She lets out a little hum and he's done for, over stimulated by all the things she's doing to him. He comes, quick and easily, and she moves back once she's finished her job, wiping her mouth off on her palm. She grabs at her slurpee and continues to drink it, a little disappointed with how it's melted in the heat.
She acts as though nothing ever happened, and turns up the volume on the radio, kicking her feet back up.
He stares at her for a long moment, regaining his hitched breathing, admiring her red lips for many reasons now.