Stryfe pushed his lips out in an overexaggerated pout. His dark eyes gleamed in the light of her room. Slowly he crawled to his knees, his hair thrown to one side in slick rivulets, his strange spine predominantly displayed. "Your bed isn't the only thing I'm getting wet." That lecherous grin slid so easily along his lips. "It's perfectly alright, you know," he said conversationally. He slid from her bed and stalked leisurely over to his pile of clothes. "To be attracted to me. To be curious." He glanced at her over his shoulder as he bent over and began to slide his jeans back up into place. "It's natural," his lips overexaggerated the word.
He left the shirt off and began to prowl her room, nosily picking up objects and looking in her drawers. He held up a pair of cotton panties with cherries over it and raised his eyebrow, dangling it out in front of him. "Now these...are not natural." He flicked them across the room. "Although the ones you threw at me earlier are much better. I think..." Stryfe cocked his head to the side, "I'll hang them from my tree. The one in the front of the house. I've always hated that tree, and think that would make it so much...lovelier." Rummaging through her makeup he held up black eyeliner. "I use the same brand," he mused with a laugh.