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The motel room was small but it was clean (since it was clean enough for Becky, it was certainly clean enough for me) and it fit our limited budget. The show at the casino (an additional twenty miles down the road) was not going to be anything spectacular, but it was away from work, home, children, in-laws… We were somewhat worried about leaving the thirteen-year-old in charge of her siblings for the first time overnight, but Grandma and Grandpa were on speed dial and live nearby. To be honest, it was Becky who was somewhat worried. I would have left them locked in the basement for this chance at some old-time rock and roll and uninterrupted sex. For the record, I never formally suggested locking them up. I just would have. I nabbed Becky by the waist as she squeezed past me, and I went in for the kiss.  “Don’t mess up my Face!” I’ll give her that one. I did not intend to peck her gently on her lips; those glossy, freshly-painted lips. I intended on kissing her so hard that her hands would shake too much for her to put her lipstick back on. I don’t know what exactly, but there was something about her face, all made up for a night out, poised above that old, worn t-shirt. Maybe it’s the transformation from girl-next-door to woman-about-town. And at thirty-eight (shit, thirty-eight or thirty-nine?), she still had that girl-next-door quality. I pulled us hip-to-hip. “Wanna fool around first? No kissing required.” “Yes, always, bahis siteleri but no. We need to get ready.” I kept one hand around her waist and unlocked her bra with the other. One-handed. Over the shirt. I still got it. “Lucky for you I was going to change my bra anyway.” She tried to move past me but I wouldn’t let her go. She gave me that impatient, annoyed look she gives me when I’m annoying. I didn’t care. I looked at those beautiful eyes of hers. They were blue like the sky, only better; blue like the sky wants to be. She has naturally long, long eyelashes anyway, but she really knows how to make them stand out, jet-black and curled up. I kept my eyes locked into hers and reached into her shirt sleeve. I lifted the strap off her shoulder, shifted my hold so she couldn’t escape, and lifted the other one, so that I could draw her bra out through the sleeve. It didn’t work. Now, I think that women pulling their bras through their sleeves is the sexiest thing ever. I swear Becky comes up with little ways to make it even sexier so I was quite pleased when she finished the job for me.  “I said I was changing my bra anyway. Will you let me take my shirt off now, please?” I was holding tight onto the hem of her shirt. Eventually, she said, “ugh!” and raised her arms above her head. I slowly lifted her shirt up, brushing my fingertips along her sides; okay, along the sides of her boobs. But she shouted at me and grabbed canlı bahis siteleri the neck at the last second. “I told you to watch my Face!” Dramatic pause. “I am.” She sighed like she always does when I say something sweet at the wrong time. She carefully lifted her shirt away from her face, and smiled at me through the tunnel it made. I maintained eye contact, because even though I’ve seen those amazing breasts every day for years, I still wanted to look at them again. But what I didn’t want was to be told, yet again, that, “my eyes are up here,” so I stared right down the middle of her pupils. Well, except for that brief second when the shirt was blocking her eyes. Then I looked. Becky had that crooked smile she gets when she’s plotting something. She casually brushed her fingers down my torso, grasped my shirt, and jerked it up and off me like she was trying to start my lawn mower. I glared at her when one of her nails dug a furrow in my flesh, but I refused to flinch. “There. We’re even. Can I finish getting ready now?” “There’s nothing stopping you,” I replied. She tried to turn away but I had already slid my fingers in the front of her jeans. “Nothing stopping me?” “I’m not stopping, I’m helping.” I unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans, wormed my fingers through the belt loops at her hips, and gave them a yank. They didn’t get far. “A little assistance, please?” She wiggled her hips as I shimmied her pants down canlı bahis as far as I could and still be looking eye-to-eye. When I stood, she whined that this would go so much faster if she undressed herself. She tilted her head down, but I lifted her chin to direct her eyes back up to mine. “My eyes are up here,” I scolded. She pursed her lips. The game was on. Becky undid my jeans and gave them a tug. I’m sure she noticed that I had more than a chubby, well on its way to my usual throbbing rod of Valyrian steel. However, we had reached a disrobing impasse, since our pants had only fallen down as far as our knees. She solved the problem when she shook one pant leg enough to get it over her foot, and did that thing where you step on one pant leg with the other foot, back and forth, until you can kick them off. I followed suit, and, grinning face-to-face, we gave each other double high-fives. I quickly drove my palms under the back of her panties to caress her smooth, rounded backside. She has these teeny-tiny dimples that are only visible by touch. Her panties fell to the floor with a little help. “Again, you’re lucky I was going to change those anyway.” Then she gave my boxers an unceremonious tug, but my (ahem) towering manhood was sticking through the fly. “Really?” I think she might have peeked, but I wasn’t sure so I let it go. She pulled the waist band up and over, and then let it snap back onto the middle of my shaft. I still refused to flinch. I gave her my best smug, stoic look, but dammit if she didn’t just flick the tip, and without even looking. And dammit, this time I flinched. Even Valyrian steel is no match for a well-aimed flick. 

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