He arched an eyebrow in curiosity when she picked up her shirt and covered herself up. But he didn’t say anything as he got up off the couch, carefully because it was kind of difficult to go from laying to standing with his particular... affliction. As Becky lead the way, he followed along, purposely making sure he was not his usual perfectly silent self but still quiet enough that he wouldn’t wake Amy. At least not his footsteps anyhow. The fishing a condom from his wallet and sticking it in his front pocket was very silent. Wally shut the door behind them – no, he didn’t think she was a slut or anything else. He thought she was a lonely woman who needed to be reminded that she was desirable. Settling on the edge of the bed with her, he immediately pressed her into another soft kiss, fingers back at the button of her jeans. It was kind of uncanny how he didn’t even seem bothered by the lack of lights.
Becky kissed him back and tried for a moment to let go of herself. Maybe pretending she wasn't even here was better than thinking about what the people she loved most would think of her if they knew she were doing what she was doing. Her fingers tightened in the material of her shirt, but after a moment, she released her grip on the fabric and dropped it to the floor. Thankful her shoes and socks were gone, she pulled away from his lips and leaned back on the bed, fingers finding the waistline of her pants as he lifted her hips and shimmied out of them. Her less than sexy, 'mommy panties' as she liked to call them, stayed where they were for now.
His boots and socks...were not gone and so Wally toed them off to remedy that. There was no reason to recreate the likely way the phrase ‘knocking boots’ came around. Right? He was far too pleased when her pants came off entirely and didn’t even seem to notice the type of panties she was wearing only that they were there and they were an annoying barrier. Wally settled his fingers on top of that cloth, rubbing her through it with light, teasing pressure.
The goosebumps came again, sliding over Becky's skin in a flurry as he pressed his fingers against her. Her head fell back against the bed and part of her wanted to squirm. No, all of her wanted to squirm. Half of her wanted to move in one direction - away - and the other half wanted to move against him. The latter found control of the situation and Becky arched her body against those pressing fingertips.