motel skirt

3

       You sat on this hunt’s crappy motel bed, the itchy fleece blanket scratching at the parts of your legs your annoyingly tight skirt didn’t cover, and pulled on the professional looking heels you kept in the trunk of the Impala for situations just like this. You looked up and watched as Dean stared down at his light grey sweater, pulling on the collar and frowning.

     “I look like an idiot in this thing,” Dean complained.

     You ignored the pinch of your uncomfortable shoes and got up to walk towards him, a smile pulling at your lips. “I think you look good – sort of … domestic. And huggable.”

     Dean raised his eyebrows. “You think this looks good?” he asked, punctuating his question by pointing at himself.

     You grinned and raked your eyes over Dean appreciatively, then threw your arms around his neck. “I do. In fact,” you tightened your grip, sliding your hands across his soft, sweater-clad shoulders, “I like it a lot.”

     Dean smirked and wasted no time in sliding his hands around your waist, holding you flush against him. “Well then,” his fingers slipped under your skirt’s tight waistband, “maybe I should dress like this more often.”

     You moved close enough to share breath, the extra height the heels provided making him easier to reach, and said, “Maybe you should,” your lips brushing his as you spoke. Then you closed the gap between the two of you and kissed Dean passionately, letting him know just how much you loved him, adorably dorky sweater and all. Your bottom lip dragged against his once you finally found the will power to pull away.

     “Okay, we’ve gotta go,” you said breathlessly, your forehead resting against his as you did.

     Dean groaned in protest and buried his face in the crook of your neck, wrapping his arms around you as tightly as he could manage. “Can’t we just stay here?”

     You let out a breathy laugh and pushed on your boyfriend’s broad chest, separating yourself from him no matter how much you didn’t want to. “Come on, we have lives to save,” you said. Then you walked towards the motel door, letting your skirt-accentuated hips swing just a little extra as you did.


*I made the first gif (which is why it sucks so much :p), the other one is from Google Images and not mine.*

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anonymous asked:

can you post some nymphet itens from nasty gal please? love your blog x

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