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“Let's slip this skirt off again.” He unzips my skirt and pushes it down, stroking the sides of my thighs as he does so. I step out of the skirt and he puts it on a chair. He gives me a little push. “Walk away from me a bit.” I take a few steps, naked save for my sandals. Then I hesitate. This feels, I don't know, like a command performance. “I feel silly,” I say. “Let me take off these sandals.” “You look great, “ he replies. “Your ass is beautiful and I love the muscles in your back. Turn around.” I turn around. He has taken his jacket, shoes and tie off and is unbuttoning his dress shirt. This is the first time I've seen him without a tie. His eyes are dark from this angle and are full of heat. He has the build of a basketball player. Maybe a point guard, I think. About six-one. “Even better from the front,” he says. Put your left hand on your left tit.” “You're awfully bossy.” “I'm used to being the boss. I like it. Now pinch your nipple.” I comply. He keeps undressing. He keeps. Her parents' suitcases were almost obscenely unaffected by the crash. Even the cooler in the trunk still had sodas in it. The lid was ajar, but nothing had fallen out.Because all they had was the bike, it was obvious they would have to make multiple trips to get everything back to the motel. Jennifer decided that both suitcases could be tied on the bike if one was lodged in the queen seat and she could stay there looking for the cell phone, which had not yet been located, while Bob ran the stuff back to the motel.When Bob got back from that run, he was met by a triumphant Jennifer, whose clothes were stained and face was smudged. She'd actually crawled deep into the twisted wreckage to find the phone. Some of the stains on her shirt looked suspiciously like flecks of dried blood, but Bob didn't say anything.Bob had brought back a backpack for small things. They abandoned the cooler, but kept the plastic bottles of soda, as well as a few odds and ends Jennifer had found in the car.
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