Bra Off Quotes & Sayings

Off flew his shirt, which landed on an outstretched arm of the ceiling fan. 'Beats me. God, is there a padlock on this thing?'
'It's not rocket science, Driggs. It's a bra.'
'It's a Rubik's cube of diabolical proportions, is what it - ha! Suck it, evil underwear!' Triumphant, he flung the unfastened conundrum across the room [ ... ] — Gina Damico

It's not your bra. It's our bra and I want it off." I slip it off her, pulling her against me as I rub my hands down the length of her back, then around to the button on the front of her jeans. "And I want to take off our pants."
She grins against my lips and slowly nods. "Okay, but hurry," she whispers.
"I can be quick," I assure her. "But I'll never hurry. — Colleen Hoover

I slip her shirt over her head and she tries to cover herself, but I move her arms out of the way and kiss up her neck while I talk about all the things that are no longer just mine.
'Will, stop.' She laughs and attempts to pull my hands away from her bra. 'You can't take off my bra, we're in our driveway. What if they come outside?'
'It's dark,' I whisper. 'And it's not your bra. It's our bra and I want it off.' I slip it off her, pulling her against me as I rub my hands down the length of her back, then around to the button on the front of her jeans. 'And I want to take off our pants. — Colleen Hoover

He said 'That! Put that in your purse! I don't like that!' when I took off my brassiere. It remained there, though, curled up on his wooden floor, curled awkwardly for a piece of clothing, not awkwardly if it had been something else perhaps, a creature.

"Idea — Diane Williams

Somehow, Sydney had an internal clock that told her when time was up. I think it was part of her inherent ability to keep track of a hundred things at once. Not me. In these moments, my thoughts were usually focused on getting her shirt off and whether I'd get past the bra this time. So far, I hadn't. — Richelle Mead

She did some sort of magic bra trick to get it off and out of her shirt. All women seemed to know the same maneuver. — Jamie McGuire

Suddenly energized, she jumped to her feet and bounced up and down on the couch. Clean clothes went flying off the pile. Maybe she should feel bad because she'd just seen what a huge flaw she'd uncovered in herself. But she didn't.

She felt free and alive. Up to now, she hadn't really been living. Not fully and completely. That had to change. Immediately.

"What are you doing? I'm hearing weird sounds."

"I'm pulling a Tom Cruise. And I;m also waving a bra around. HUnter, this is amazing? YOu've changed everything. We should have talked like this long ago."

"You're freaking me out, sis. Do I need to call someone? — Jennifer Bernard

Dammit, Michael, get out of my room, you pervert!" Could you even be a pervert if you were dead? She supposed you could, if you had a working body half the time. "I swear, I'm going to start taking my clothes off!"
The cold spot stayed resolutely put until she got the hem of her T-shirt all the way up to her bra line, and then faded away. "Chicken," she said, and paced the room, back and forth. — Rachel Caine

The impulse pumping through my body was to take ahold of her again and ease her head onto my chest. Well no, my actual impulse was to tear off her purple bra with my teeth and prove she was plenty Bond girl for me. But I sensed that might be a slight overkill ... — Ophelia London

How far did we go that night?"
His gaze dropped to the neck of my tank top and the curves of my breasts. "Second base"."
"Shirt on?"
"Off. We were both topless. Topless cuddles are best." He watched as I absorbed the information, his face close to mine.
"Bra?"
"Absolutely not. — Kylie Scott

I'm going to take my time, slowly peeling off your shirt, your bra, kiss your nipples until they are so hard that you're begging me to bite them. Then I'll take off your jeans, inch by torturous inch, enjoying the show of your thighs before I reach your panties. I bet they're ridiculously wet. Even right now, I bet they are soaked. I bet they'd taste good too. Then I'm going to fuck your wet pussy so good that you'll wonder how you survived this long without me. — Karina Halle

I don't lie. I would never stuff my bra because it's going to come off and the truth is going to be revealed. I don't like that padding. I try to be completely - if not brutally - honest. — Diane Lane

Burning a book is like burning a bra. After the adrenalin rush of the symbolic moment wears off, all you're left with is a pile of ashes and unsupported boobs. — Tim Minchin

I stood for a while the way I had the first time they left, letting all the knots of fear unclench. Nothing had happened, I told myself. I am perfectly okay. He was just a creepy, horny, not-nice man, and now he's gone. But then I shoved my tent back into my pack, turned off my stove, dumped the almost-boiling water out into the grass, and swished the pot in the pond so it cooled. I took a swig of my iodine water and crammed my water bottle and my damp T-shirt, bra, and shorts back into my pack. I lifted Monster, buckled it on, stepped onto the trail, and started walking northward in the fading light. I walked and I walked, my mind shifting into a primal gear that was void of anything but forward motion, and I walked until walking became unbearable, until I believed I couldn't walk even one more step. And then I ran. — Cheryl Strayed

She reached behind her to unfasten her bra, then stopped. "Do you need me to take all my clothes off, or just from the waist down?" "This isn't a visit to the gynecologist, Rachel. Everything must go." His voice was lightly mocking. — Anne Stuart

I watched her peel off the slip, The bra closed in the front like the other. Ah, my teeth clenched seeing her tighten the clasps, breasts gathered like that. The she smoothed the flesh into the cups, lifted each breast, dropped it, her fingers casual, rough. I got hard watching it. Then the panties came up stretched sheer over her pubic hair. I could see the silk seal itself over her secret lips. Little crack. Hair a dark shadow underneath. — Anne Rampling

Yesterday, I cried.
I came home, went straight to my room,
sat on the edge of my bed,
kicked off my shoes, unhooked my bra,
and I had myself a good cry. — Iyanla Vanzant

Showing some guy your boobs is never the way to go." I knew the opposite to be true, that you could get almost anything you wanted if you were willing to take off your bra. — Karen Booth

she rose from her seat and crossed the room to a filing cabinet. Dangling from the waist band of her stretch pants hung a bra. One end was caught by the hooks in the knit material, while the other end tapped right above her calf. The bra looked like Old Glory. It flashed red, white, and blue. I didn't know whether to laugh or salute it. "Mary Lou, you have a bra hanging off your butt." I don't believe I've ever had to make that statement before in my life. — Dolores Wilson

Our would-be Pan shouted something else at Sloane. "Oh yeah?! Never grow up this!" she shouted back, and something black fluttered down from the rooftop. For a horrified second, I thought the boy had jumped. Then the black thing landed on one of the firemen, and I realized that the answer was slightly more mundane, if no less horrifying: Sloane had thrown her shirt off the roof. Her bra landed on the grass next to a fireman's feet a moment later. — Seanan McGuire

Now," Clary said. "I don't want to wait. Do you?"
He didn't reply, just got up off the floor and picked his shirt. He looked at Clary, and almost smiled. "If we're going to the Silent City, you might want to get dressed. I mean, I appreciate the bra-and-panties look, but I don't know if the Silent Brothers will. There are only a few of them left, and I don't want them to die of excitement."
Clary got up off the bed and threw a pillow at him, mostly out of relief. She reached for her clothes and began to pull her shirt on. Just before it went over her head, she caught sight of the knife lying on the bedspread, gleaming like a fork of silvery flame. — Cassandra Clare

I just want to hold you tonight. It's not that I don't want to tear your bra and panties off and dominate you with my manhood until you're screaming my name ... because I do." He presses his erection into my backside to illustrate his point. "Goddammit, I do. But I just want tonight to be about us and this insane, unstoppable need I have to be near you. Around you. To be your friend. To make you smile. To make you laugh. To make you happy. To protect you. I want to learn everything about you, Scout. Your past. Your present. Your future. But there's time for that tomorrow and the day after that. Tonight I just want to fall asleep with you. And tomorrow morning I want to wake up with you. I'm working on the whole living in the moment thing, and now ... this moment, that's all I want. — Kim Holden

His eyes are ravenous but his body is still tense, and so I slip my bra strap off my shoulder and motion my finger at him. He takes a deep breath, slips off his silver cross necklace, and tosses it aside. Whatever is about to happen, it seems that he does not want God around to witness it. — Seth King

She took off her blouse, her trousers, her bra, her panties, and stood before him naked. — Paulo Coelho

How I'd managed to sit still for the majority of the conversation and be controlled, without ripping my knickers off, throwing them over my head and swinging my bra around my fingers in a come and get me gesture, I had no idea. — Kristy Berridge

Right so, I like girls. And I've liked 'em all my life. I was a marine. I've shot a gun. I own five of them, guns that is. I watch the Nuggets, Avs, Broncos and Rockies. I've never in my life worn a skirt. I wear a sports bra because with these babies," she circled her bosoms with a pointed finger before dropping her hand to the checkout desk, "I got no choice. God saw fit to grant me an A cup, no way. Since I'm a C, I'm fucked. I have never worn mascara. I do not own a blow dryer. And I get off on goin' down on chicks. Now which one, you or me, has more in common with Chace Keaton? — Kristen Ashley

'Tales From Topographic Oceans' is like a woman's padded bra. The cover looks good, but when you peel off the padding, there's not a lot there. — Rick Wakeman

Kayla snatched the ruby-coloured bra he'd dug out from behind his back. "You should know, you're the one who got it off me," she said. — Meg Cabot

What happened to the rest of my clothes?"
"They left," he said, face serious.
"You took them?"
He shrugged. "You wouldn't have been comfortable sleeping in them."
"How on earth did you manage to get my bra off without waking me?"
"He gave me a sly smile. "I didn't do anything else. I swear. I just ... removed it for safety reasons. Underwire is dangerous. — Kylie Scott

Once I finished breastfeeding, my mom's like, 'Don't take that bra off ever!' Mom, thank you. I wore a one-size-too-small bra for like, two years. It helps ... ! They don't fall, you teach them, you teach them to come back! — Paula Patton

A couple of minutes later I was surprised when the figure that came back was ... not him. It was Arianna, holding something bulky draped over her arm.
She opened my door, and I got out. "Where's Lend? I'm supposed to wait for him."
"Nope." She smiled bigger than I'd ever seen her smile before, and suddenly I was a touch nervous. What if she was working with Nona and the faeries? "You were waiting for me. Now, strip."
"I - What?"
"You heard me. Strip. Take off your coat, shirt, and pants. You can leave your bra, for all the good it does you."
I noticed then that the bulky thing over her arm was a garment bag. Aha! "Ar, listen, I don't feel that way about you. You're not my type."
"Oh, shut up, take your clothes off, and close your eyes."
"Again, not something I was hoping to hear from you tonight."
Her smile was replaced by an annoyed scowl. "DO IT NOW. — Kiersten White

So popular is alliteration that in the 1960s it actually made a grab for political power. In the 1960s a vast radical youth movement began campaigning to do things for the sole reason that they began with the same letter. Ban the bomb. Burn your bra. Power to the people. For a moment there it seemed as though alliteration would change the world. But then the spirit of idealism faded and those who had manned the barricades went off and got jobs in marketing. — Mark Forsyth

My fingers draw up her back and tangle into her hair. "They'll never separate us."
"Never," she repeats.
Our lips crush together, our bodies pressed tight. An inferno of lips and hands and movements that continues to grow in heat. The blanket falls away as Rachel slides her legs so that she straddles me. On the verge of burning up completely, I groan and cling to her small frame. Her hands drift under my shirt, leaving a singeing trail.
We've become a wildfire. Almost unstoppable. I kiss her neck and the beautiful sounds escaping her mouth encourage me further. My hands skim under her shirt, up her back, linger for seconds near her bra, and I gently nip her ear when I feel lace.
Images pour into my mind of what she'd look like with her shirt off, then her jeans. My fist traps strands of her hair. "I want you, Rachel."
And because I do, I kiss her fully on the mouth - nothing left to the imagination. Every fantasy becomes a reality with that one embrace. — Katie McGarry

I didn't expect to sit here for hours. But if you're too hot, feel free to take the bra off." I gave him the finger. "What are you?" he asked. "I'm the woman you chained in your basement. I'm your captive. Your ... victim. Yes, that's the right word. All of that education. How come nobody ever explained to you that you can't just kidnap people because you feel like it? — Ilona Andrews

Just like with buttons on a shirt, the hooks are always going to be on the same side (your left). If you're trying to remove a bra but can't, simply say, "I need a little help." The girl will laugh at you, but she'll take off her bra. It happened to me many times in my early days, so it's not a big deal, but it's in your best interests to be able to do it on your own (unstrapping a bra with one hand or foot at lightning speed is a move girls appreciate). — Roosh V

If you would feel comfortable going around to someone's house at the end of a long day saying, "I'm just going to take my bra off," you know you are intimate friends. — Caitlin Moran

Slowly, he lifts the flashlight. Her shorts are torn and frayed, her shirt ripped from chest to naval, exposing her black bra and dirty stomach. And then he raises the light so it reflects off her face, off the crimson tears streaming from the girl's eyes. Her boney hands fly up to protect her face, and her head tilts sharply as she hisses. — Laura Kreitzer

I only took off my shirt, Daniel. The bra isn't even all that revealing," she replied, cool as can be, plush mouth set all prim and proper. "If all it takes for you to lose your cool is the hint of hard nipple then I'm concerned on your behalf."
"Shit. Say hard nipple again."
Her body vibrated beneath him with soft laughter. "No. — Kylie Scott

Introduction to Jane. - Jane removed the last of the unfamiliar, silk bra-cup pads and panty liners from within the clothes she was unpacking and placed them in her top lingerie drawer. Her discovery of their illicit presence was a bombshell with which her disbelief was still struggling. The shock was enough for her to call the office, cancel her appointments and tell the studio she would be off all day. — Francine Scott

With a slow smile, she brought her gaze back to Kyle's as she reached behind and unhooked her bra.
"Need some help with that?" he asked.
"I have had plenty of practice."
"Yeah, well, I could do with the extra practice. Takes way too long to get those things off. — J.A. Belfield

I added pieces the same way I'd constructed my body, from the inside out: boy-cut panties first (lacy), bra (sheer), stockings (thigh high), knee-length leather skirt (black), lime green midriff-baring shirt (polyester). David leaned against the wall and watched this striptease-in-reverse with fabulously expressive eyebrows slowly climbing toward heaven, I finished it off with a pair of strappy lime green three-inch heels, something from the Manolo Blahnik spring collection that I'd seen two months ago in Vogue.
He looked me over, blinked behind the glasses, and asked, "You're done?"
I took offense, "Yeah. You with the fashion police?"
"I don't think I'd pass the entrance exam." The eyebrows didn't come down. "I never knew you were so ... "
"Fashionable?"
"Not really the word I was thinking."
I struck a pose and looked at him from under my supernaturally lustrous eyelashes. "Come on, you know it's sexy."
"And that's sort of my point. — Rachel Caine

In England on a hot day, women are happy to walk around with their bra straps showing. In Paris, they don't shave their armpits. And you just can't mention Germany and style in the same book, let alone the same sentence. It's the same story in America too, where the Farrah Fawcett haido of 1975 still reigns supreme. In Italy, even the policemenists look like they've just come off a catwalk. One I found, standing on a rostrum in the middle of a Roman square, was immaculate, as was his routine. Each wave of the hand, each toot of the whistle and each twist of the body was Pans People perfect. Never mind that the traffic was completely ignoring him, he looked good, and that's what mattered. Looking good in Italy is even more important than looking where you're going. — Jeremy Clarkson

Tapping into the aether, well, it was like coming home at the end of the day and finally being able to take a bra off.
It was that good. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

We had one idiot put a bomb in a shoe, and now everybody's got to take their shoes off? Where's the bra bomber at? I say, if we've gotta wait in line, let's make it fun for everybody. — Alonzo Bodden