Lito Rodriguez

It's the end of a very long night, but a very successful one, if Lito says so himself. Dressed in a red dress that hugs everything so tightly that a pimple might show through it and with heels that make him tower above the rest, Lito has had no problem finding plenty of company to keep him occupied with hands and mouth. The trouble is that he finds no pleasure in being touched in this body and giving it seems strange not having Hernando on the other end. It's why he's so disappointed by the end of the night, taking off the heels in his apartment and rubbing his feet while trying to tug down the dress that's been rucked up.

In addition, Lito is so very, very drunk. And, as he well knows, he tends to get a bit clingy when he drinks. "Will," Lito complains with a whine, head lolling to the side and much more hair than he's used to cascading over his shoulder. "Will, where are you?" he mumbles, seeing as Will had walked him home. He stretches out his body and reaches out like a child. "I need you. I need you more than I have ever needed anyone," he laments dramatically.