Stroked Hard

  Oh, fuck me and her no-underwear policy. She is going to be the death of me.

  “Your mouth is fucking wicked,” I say, kissing her deeply while grabbing the back of her neck.

  “I didn’t finish.”

  “I know.” I snake my hand up her thigh and test her readiness. She’s fucking soaking wet. Moving my mouth to her ear, I say, “I’m going to finish buried deep inside of you.” I finger her clit. She moans and spreads her legs even wider as her head rolls back, exposing her neck for me. I take advantage and press kisses along the column while continuing to move my finger over her clit, loving how slick she is.

  My cock is hard as fuck, bumping against her legs, begging for entrance. I’m desperate to be inside her so I ask, “Can I enter you . . . bare?”

  Her hands that are running up my arms to my shoulders freeze from my question. Tilting her head down, she looks me in the eyes, studying me. Please fucking say yes.

  Her eyes soften and she nods. Unspoken words of trust resonate between us and it’s the first step toward the future I want with her.

  With the go-ahead, I spread her and position my cock at her entrance. This was one of my fantasies I envisioned with her—fucking her on the kitchen counter. Check that box, because she’s about to come all over her marble counter if I have anything to do with it.

  One quick thrust and I’m deep inside her, low moans coming from the both of us. I move my hips back and forth, feeling the raw sensation of having nothing between us. It’s fucking incredible. She’s so warm, so tight that I start to feel my orgasm take over once again.

  “God, your cock is amazing.” It’s said on a whisper as her head flies back. She sure as hell knows how to stroke a man’s ego. “Yes, Hollis,” she says a little louder. “Please, harder.”

  My baby asks for it, my baby gets it. Gripping her hips, I steady her as I pump hard inside her, my hips moving frantically, trying to hit that spot that makes me scream obscenities. My balls slap her thighs, my body is coated in sweat, and my muscles feel overexerted. I keep going, pounding into her until I feel her pussy starting to clench around me. Moving one hand between us, I press my thumb against her clit and lightly massage it.

  She gets off with two grazes. “Oh, fuck me,” she says, her fingers digging into my shoulders.

  My balls seize up as I pump feverishly inside her, my orgasm hitting me like a fucking semi-truck, slamming me hard like I’m about to explode.

  “Shiiiiiit,” I moan, my head resting on her shoulder. “Shit,” I repeat, catching my breath. I look up at Melony who must be mirroring the same look on her face as I am because we both chuckle.

  “That was intense,” she admits, kissing me lightly on the lips. The innocent move jolts my heart against my chest, awakening me.

  “It was,” I say on a whisper, repeating the kiss, this time adding a little tongue.

  Pulling away, she kisses my jaw, “I seriously have a hard-on for your cock.”

  An outburst of a laugh escapes me. “Well, fucking eat it up whenever you want, baby.” Still inside her I adjust, a slight tremor still running through my cock. She sighs with the movement. “Uh, just to be sure, you’re on birth control, right?”

  Chuckling, she nods. “Yeah, you’re not tying me down that easily.”

  “Nah, I have other plans of keeping you tied to me, and it doesn’t involve an accidental pregnancy, although, what a baby-daddy scandal that would be.”

  “I would come after your gold medals,” she smiles devilishly.

  “Take my medals but leave your tits. That’s my kind of deal, Hot Sex.”

  “Don’t call me that,” she says sternly.

  Not answering her, I laugh, pick her up off the counter and take her to the bathroom to clean up. Hot Sex isn’t going anywhere; Big Daddy won’t let her. *wink*

  ***

  “So do you just climb stairs and dive in the water over and over again? Seems pretty awful.” I almost miss the question since I’m watching her mouth smoothly run over a fork of French toast. Those lips, they were only recently sucking on my cock, making me so goddamn out-of-my-mind crazy, now they are doing the same . . . but with a utensil. Fuck me. I have it bad. “Uh, Hollis . . .”

  “Yeah,” I say lazily, still staring at her lips.

  “Are you going to answer my question?”

  “Stairs are fun,” I say, leaning forward, just needing a nibble.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Nothing,” I answer, leaning a little bit more forward. Just a few inches.

  “Hollis, you’re coming at me with your tongue hanging out of your mouth and crazy in your eyes, so I repeat, what the hell are you doing?”

  Tongue hanging out? Crazy in my eyes? Is that what I look like when I’m in lust? Shit, that’s unattractive.

  Sitting up, I straighten myself and say, “Just wanted a kiss. Your lips are so damn perfect.”

  “Well, looking like a drugged-out version of Shrek isn’t going to get you a kiss.”

  Insulted, I push my hair back and say, “I did not look like Shrek.”

  “I’m sorry, is my face a mirror?” She points to herself, a combative look on her face.

  “No,” I say confused. What does a mirror have to do with anything? I pucker up and lean forward but she palms my face, stopping me in my pursuit.

  “Didn’t think my face was a mirror, therefore you have no idea what you looked like. Believe me, you looked like Shrek.”

  “He’s green. I’m blue,” I smile between her blocking fingers.

  With a little push of my head, she sends me back to my chair. Stubborn woman “Blue? Why blue? You definitely don’t have blue balls.” She raises an eyebrow, reminding me of the little romp we just had in the kitchen.

  “Baby, I will have blue balls every minute of every day I’m not deep inside that sexy cunt of yours.” I take a bite of my French toast as I watch her eyes turn sinful. “But that’s not why I’m blue.”

  Clearing her throat, she sips her coffee and looks at me from over her mug. “Then why are you blue?” she asks with annoyance.

  “Blue for lust and hot stuff, I’m lusting over you.” I wink and nod my head. Proud of myself, I cross my arms over my chest.

  Her mouth drops open a mere inch as she studies me. Sitting back in her chair, she sets her coffee down and begins to slow clap. Fucking ball-buster. “Wow, and the award for the cheesiest dickhead in the room goes to Hollis Knightly.”

  Never letting an opportunity to be a smart-ass slip by me, I stand at the table, take hold of Mrs. Butterworth, that syrupy bitch, and hold her to my chest. “I don’t know what to say.” I wave my hand in front of my eyes. “I would like to thank Boo and Bear, Melony’s tits, for being so incredibly perky all the time. Nipples, what can I say? You were on point last night. To the sweet pussy that ate up my dick last night and on the kitchen counter this morning, your clenching walls will forever be branded on my cock. And lastly, to the finger that pushed on my perineum, may your digit forever be plated in gold for making my dick grow an extra two inches. God bless you, finger, God bless you.”

  Sitting down, I take a sip of coffee from my mug with a smug smile and wait for her reaction. Guaranteed eye-roll coming my way.

  “Boo and Bear?” she asks, slightly surprising me from lack of contempt in her eyes.

  “Yeah.” I point to her tits with two fingers. “Boo Bear. I named them.”

  Lifting her shirt, exposing her glorious chest, she asks, “All right, which one is boo and which one is bear?”

  “Clearly the left one is bear.”

  “Why is that clear?”

  “Because,” I say simply, “it’s furrier than the right.” It takes everything in me to hold back the smile that wants to blast past my lips.

  Her mouth opens in shock and she drops her shirt. Lifting off her chair, she charges at me, causing me to laugh. “My boobs aren’t furry.” She tries to tickle-pinch me but all I do is pull her onto my lap that is now covered by my
shorts. I may cook naked but eating naked at the table . . . I have some manners.

  “I didn’t say boobs, I just said one boob was furry,” I tease.

  “You’re the worst.” Her finger connects with my nipple and pinches . . . hard.

  “Fucking hell,” I yell, grabbing her finger. “Damn woman.”

  “Say it,” she threatens, a smile on her face and determination in her eyes.

  “Say what?”

  “Say I don’t have hairy nipples.”

  I sigh and twist my face apologetically. “Sorry, baby, I’m not really into the whole lying thing just to please.”

  Forgetting her pinching attempts, she takes a different approach, light in her eyes from what’s to come next. I don’t see it coming until I feel her warm heat starting to rock against my cock. Oh shit, she’s bringing her A-game.

  Moving her hair to the side with one hand, she tilts her head to the side and pulls on the neckline of her shirt, exposing her breast, Bear to be exact, while she continues to rock on my now hardening cock.

  “Say it,” she says in a sexy voice, biting her lip after.

  Oh, fuck me.

  I grip her hips and help them ride me, loving the way I can feel her pussy against the rigidness of my dick. For a brief moment, I stare at our connection, loving the way her hips seductively move against me and take note to have her ride me in bed.

  “Say it,” she repeats.

  “Babe, do you really think I like sucking on a Chewbacca nipple? Come on, you know your boobs are perfect.”

  “And . . .” She shifts on my lap.

  “And hairless,” I groan out.

  Releasing her shirt, she pushes my chest and gets up. “That’s right they are. Don’t make that mistake again.”

  What? Looking down at my lap, my dick is popping up, completely aroused. She smirks and saunters away, plate and coffee mug in hand.

  “Uh, pardon me, devil woman, you seem to have left something behind.” I point down at my dick.

  “I don’t believe I have.” She rinses her plate off and sticks it in the dishwasher. When she’s finished, she looks over the half wall that separates her kitchen and dining area, resting her head in her hands. “So your practices, you just dive constantly?”

  “You’re really changing the subject, when my dick is practically winking at you, trying to grab your pussy’s attention?”

  The smile that crosses over her beautiful face is nefarious. “I am. I would rather hear about your practice.”

  “Come sit on my cock, and I will tell you all you want to hear.” I back my chair up and pat my lap, nodding my head in my direction, trying to entice her.

  “Nice try.” Standing up, she rounds the corner of the kitchen and plays with the hem of her shirt, occasionally flashing me her fucking vagina as if it’s nothing. “And here I wanted to take a shower but now I’m going to have to research what divers do.”

  Standing up like a bullet out of a gun, I close the distance between us and glide my hands up her thighs, under her shirt and to the swell of her hips. My erection presses against her as I look down at this little seductress. Moving my hands, I caress her soft skin, roaming around her ass and up her shirt. Her eyes glaze over and she uses my shoulders as support.

  “Have shower sex with me and I’ll take you to my practice.” God, anything right about now to get inside this woman again.

  “Really?”

  “Really. Deal?”

  Peeling her shirt off, she guides my hands up to her breasts and forces them to squeeze her. No fucking problem there.

  “It’s a deal, Big Daddy,” she says on a laugh.

  “Oh fuck, yes. Hot Sex and Big Daddy are about to bang in the shower.”

  I chase her down the hallway as she giggles and says, “No commentary. It’s weird.”

  “So announcing that penis is entering vagina inccuring coitus isn’t recommended?”

  “God, no.”

  “Damn. I love announcing during coitus.”

  “Don’t say coitus!” She laughs.

  Fuck, that sound is addicting. It took months. So many long, patient, extremely horny months, but is worth the wait. She is worth the wait. And now she’s letting me in. Thank fucking heaven.

  ***

  What the hell was I thinking, inviting Melony to my practice? And why the hell did she say she would come? This was a bad idea, a very, very bad idea.

  “Hey, asshole, are you paying attention?” Holly asks while pointing at her clipboard.

  I glance down at my watch and see I have five minutes before Melony is supposed to arrive. Five minutes to convince Holly to get the hell out of here.

  When I first invited Melony, I didn’t think of her meeting Holly, the thought never even crossed my mind. I thought it would be fun to show her what I do for dryland training. And then I remembered who my coach is.

  My sister.

  The sister whose career I destroyed.

  The sister who is now in a wheelchair for the rest of her life because I looked at a text message while driving.

  A text message about forgotten goggles.

  Fuck!

  Call me a pussy, but I can’t have Melony meet Holly yet. I don’t want her to ask questions. I don’t want her to know that side of me. I’m trying to win her over, not drive her away. One mention of how I destroyed my sister’s life and Melony will hightail it away from me, no doubt in my mind.

  “Hollis! What the hell is wrong with you?”

  I grab the back of my head, rubbing my skin as I try to think of a reasonable excuse to ask Holly to leave. “Uh, I think I can handle practice by myself today.”

  Sitting back in her chair, she eyes me up and down, a sarcastic laugh popping out of her mouth. “You think you can handle practice by yourself today. Three days before you leave for the final send-off before Rio? Do you really think I would let that happen?”

  “Uh, if I ask nicely you would?”

  “Guess again.”

  “Holly, please. Let me just have today.”

  “Are you insane? I’m not going to let you practice alone three days before we leave.”

  The door to the gym opens and Melony walks in, looking around. My heart hammers in my chest as I take her in. She’s wearing hot-pink spandex capris and a form-fitting black tank top. Her hair is pulled back, a few strands falling forward. God, she’s so beautiful.

  Holly follows my gaze and then looks back at me. She catches my stare and all I can do is smile.

  She pinches the bridge of her nose and shakes her head. “I can’t fucking believe you right now.”

  “Holly, you don’t understand how long it took me to get this girl to trust me.”

  “What does that have to do with me?”

  Fuck, what do I say? I don’t want Melony to see my handicapped sister because I’m afraid she’ll hate me for life? What kind of shitty person does that make me? The absolute fucking worst. I already know that, given my past indiscretion. Shit.

  “Listen,” I swallow hard, “I don’t want her to meet family. We are keeping this little thing between us right now, and you’ll scare her off with your twin stories. Please, Holls, I will come back later tonight if you want. Just give me this right now.”

  Anger surfacing her features turns soft for a brief moment. “Fine, but you owe me doubles tomorrow with zero complaints, got it?”

  Doubles . . . insert whiney emoji face. Melony is worth it.

  “Got it. Now get out of here.”

  Shaking her head at me, she leaves me but not before saying, “Work on your approach on your four-and-a-half somersault at least.”

  “Done. I’ll call you after.”

  Mumbling, she says, “That’s right you will.”

  Thank fuck for an understanding sister. Melony is chatting with another athlete she ran into when I walk up to her. “Hey baby.”

  Turning, she has a bright smile on her face. “Hey. Did you just get here?”

  “No, I was warming up,??
? I lie. “Coach isn’t here today, but I have some things to do and thought maybe I would show you the ropes. Come one, I have my own space over here.” I nod my head toward my corner full of mats, practice platform, and bin of foam blocks.

  Melony says bye to the other athlete and walks next to me. Because I can’t be close to her and not touch her, I link my fingers with hers. “How was work?”

  “Dreadful. Bellini felt a pimple coming in. She thinks it’s from stress, but I think it’s the itty-bitty alien that controls her body trying to free itself.”

  I laugh and pull her in so I can kiss her head. “Why does that actually seem plausible?”

  “Because she is the worst human on this planet.”

  “What could she possibly be stressed about?”

  “No clue. She got a letter in the mail today that freaked her out. I hope it’s some hateful fan mail. Maybe someone is trying to capture Pope Francis for ransom.”

  “Maybe she was caught on camera stealing a pack of Tic Tacs out of desperation,” I suggest. “And now she has to serve time.”

  “Maybe someone is trying to claim Pocket as their own minion, leaving Bellini without someone to bleach her asshole every month.”

  Cringing, I ask, “She bleaches her asshole?”

  “So it’s like the halo of an angel,” I deadpan.

  “Fuck.” I shake my head. “Moving on.” With my arms spread, I show off my area. “This is it, baby.”

  Looking around, she observes my space thoughtfully, taking in the climbing rope, the foam pit, the mounds upon mounds of mats, and the practice platform.

  Quirking her lips to the side in confusion, she says, “Uh, there’s no water.”

  “Such an observant beauty.” I kiss her head again. “I have dryland training today. Don’t need the pool for that.”

  “Dryland training. Do you do a lot of it?”

  “Just as much as the pool. Dryland training is where I practice all my flips, approaches, and tucks. It’s very important.”

  Nodding, she eyes the foam pit and asks, “Do you dive in that?”

  A wicked idea pops in my mind. Rather than tell her, I decide to show her. Without a word, I pick her up, a squeal popping out of her, and toss her right into the pit. She lands softly on the foam just as I leap into the air, conduct two somersaults and land next to her.