Stroked Hard

  “You didn’t take away anything, Hollis. We were in an accident. I lost the ability to walk, but that didn’t destroy my life, it just put me on a different path to success.” Turning away, she shakes her head. “What do you think I’ve been doing while you’ve been training? Sitting around, reminiscing on the days I could walk? Fuck you if you think that’s true.” I’m caught off guard by her tone and aggression. “I might have lost my ability to walk but I didn’t lose my heart or my drive. I didn’t lose my will to reach my goals, my new goals. While you’ve been pitying me, I’ve been making something of myself, becoming a role model for others in my position, booking speaking engagements, being a model of hope.”

  This is new information to me. “Wait, what?”

  Now she punches me in the shoulder. “You’re such a dick. You’ve seriously pitied me this whole time? Well, fuck you.” She punches me again, this time I soothe my arm with my hand. She has muscly arms.

  “Hey, stop that. I didn’t pity you, I just . . .”

  Fuck, I pitied her.

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought. You’re an asshole.”

  Frustrated with this entire conversation, I say, “I’m sorry, Holly. Fuck, I am an asshole. I thought I’d taken away everything. I didn’t know . . . why didn’t you tell me you had so much more going on?”

  “Because you just started talking to me about diving again. You haven’t been very approachable.”

  “I couldn’t look at you.” The words taste bitter as they come out of my mouth. It’s the painful truth, but every time I glanced at Holly wheeling herself around, it was a steadfast reminder of what I’d done. “I’ve felt so damn guilty.”

  She nods pensively. “I can understand that. I’m not going to downplay your emotions over what happened. It was traumatic for everyone, but I need you to understand something, Hollis. I’ve never blamed you for anything that happened. Yes, I was incredibly depressed for a while because my life had changed. What had been my goals were no longer possible. And for a while, that was really hard. I was in a dark place. But I’ve never once thought you took something away from me. In time I could see that this was how my life was supposed to be, and you know what? I’m happy. What I do is rewarding. I feel more fulfilled now, helping others through the same kind of trauma, than I did standing on a podium with a medal around my neck. Diving was for me, but public speaking is for others.” Holy fuck, my sister is incredible.

  “You’re happy?” I shyly ask, wondering where my sister gets the strength to be so damn amazing.

  “I am. So I think it’s time you forgive yourself and move on. You’re the only one blaming yourself for what happened. It’s time to let go.”

  “But what if Melony asks what happened?”

  “Tell her the truth,” Holly says simply. “You were a dumb kid who made a dumb mistake. You’ve paid for that mistake over time with guilt and regret. You’ve suffered and learned from it, and you’ve paid the penance you felt you deserved. Simple as that. She can’t hate you for something you did years ago. I don’t hate you, so what makes you think she will?”

  “She has a hard time trusting men,” I answer.

  With a serious face, but sarcastic undertones, Holly asks, “So you think hiding the truth from her about your sister is going to help with that situation? Wow, when did you become a dumbass?”

  Shit, she’s right. Now that my blockhead of a brain thinks about it, not telling Melony is worse than trying to sacrifice the image she has of me that’s barely hanging on by a thread. Well, that’s not true; my image might be a little more beefed up than a week ago thanks to my awesome fucking and romanticizing skills.

  “Fuck, Holly.” I lean my head against the car seat. “Why did I make this so difficult?”

  “Because, in the accident, they actually removed your balls.”

  “That’s why it’s so airy down there,” I counter with a smile.

  Smiling back, she leans over and hugs me with one arm. “Don’t be a fucking idiot. Drop the guilt, be happy for me, and bring Melony around so we can meet her. It’s time I get to embarrass you and tell her all the times you tried to tuck your wee wee between your legs so you could be just like me.”

  “And you just lost all visiting privileges with her.”

  “Not if I have anything to do with it. Now fetch my chariot, peasant, I have things to do.”

  ***

  “How can you eat such crap food and have an amazing body?”

  I bite into my third piece of pizza, loving the way the cheese melts in my mouth. Holly would just about kill me right now, so it’s a good thing the next few weeks will consist of a complete detox before the games start. Looking forward to gnawing on celery twenty-four/seven. Not.

  “Fat is scared of me; it’s heard I shred it, so it doesn’t even bother sticking around.” I wink.

  She shakes her head in amusement. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s it.” Changing the subject, she asks, “Are you excited to go to Rio?”

  “I’m excited to see you in a bikini on the beaches in Rio. There are topless beaches there. I’ll go topless if you go topless.”

  She laughs, that fucking sweet-as-hell sound. “You’re always topless.”

  I shrug, “I’m a bit of a whore like that. Glad you don’t leave me for my provocative nature.”

  “You should be glad I don’t leave you for being a smart-ass.”

  “What?” I feign horror. “And here I thought women like smart men. Well there goes that college education down the drain. Thanks, society, for steering me wrong.”

  “Do you always have a comeback stored up in you?”

  “I always have come stored up in me, yes. Want to help me get rid of some of it?” I wiggle my eyebrows at her.

  “I can’t stand you.” She laughs as I grab her waist and place her on my lap. Taking both of our pizzas, I set them on the coffee table in front of me.

  She’s straddling my lap, her humor-filled eyes beating down on me, her tank top loose and billowing away from her chest, giving me an amazing view of her breasts.

  “You know, you shouldn’t say hurtful things to the man that delivers such powerful orgasms you cry for hours afterward.”

  “I don’t cry,” she counters.

  “Oh, then it must have been your pussy weeping.”

  “Yeah, because she hates having to fake the fact that your cock just isn’t big enough for her.” Mouthy, I like it.

  “Baby, if you’re faking it, I will go over to Meryl Streep’s house right now and steal one of her Oscars for you, because that is some award-winning performance.”

  She starts to get off me. “Better get going. I would like the Oscar she won for Sophie’s Choice.”

  “Fuck that.” I pull her back on my lap and grip her hips. “I guess I’ll just have to fuck you better.”

  Her eyes light up with intrigue. I know for a fucking fact she’s not faking it, but if she wants to play this game, I have no problem making her little lie a living nightmare.

  Let’s play a little game called edging.

  Holding her close to me, I lift both of us off the couch and work my way back to her bedroom while she giggles into my ear from the kisses I’m peppering on her neck. This woman was so closed off, so anti everything I’ve been living my life for, and for once, I see the lightness in her features. It’s refreshing, heart-warming, fucking fantastic.

  When we get to her bedroom, I toss her on the bed and take no time getting rid of my shirt. My muscles flex for her as I drop my shirt to the floor. Her eyes roam my body, her tongue wetting her lips in the most delicious way possible.

  “Take your shirt off, baby.” Following directions, she does as asked. “Your shorts too, I want to see you completely naked.” I don’t even have to ask her to remove her underwear because I know she’s not wearing any.

  Once she’s naked, I slip my phone out of my pocket, go to my Spotify app and select the perfect song for what I have planned.

  Not pressing play yet
, I set my phone on her nightstand and walk over to her little desk where I take the chair and put it in the middle of the room.

  “Are you expecting a lap dance?” she asks, her voice a playful sneer.

  “No.” I point at the chair. “Sit.”

  “What are you going to do to me?” She crosses her arms over her chest, hiding her breasts.

  Her defiant attitude is not appreciated at the moment. “Sit in the chair, Melony,” I say with a forceful voice. Her eyebrows lift in surprise, yet to my shock, she listens. Note to self, she pays attention to my commanding-Hollis voice.

  “Keep your legs closed, I don’t want to see that pussy until I’m ready.”

  Turning my back to her, I let me shorts ride low on my hips, knowing fully well I’m not wearing underwear either, and with the press of the button, a remix of Pony by Ginuwine starts to play.

  Time for Melony to learn a little something about myself: I love to dance . . .

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  MELONY

  Holy. Fucking. Shit.

  That’s all I can think as my bare ass presses against the cool wood of my desk chair and Hollis Knightly starts pulling some kind of sexy-as-hell Magic Mike dancing.

  It starts with his feet floating on the floor in all types of moonwalking ways, his hands gripping on his head, his back muscles flexing with every erotic move he makes with his body.

  The beat of the song rings through the room, his motions pop-locking with each beat, his hips undulating with every pause, hitting the mark of the song.

  I’m wet . . . immediately.

  His feet turn together like a pretzel, only for him to twist out of it and face me. One hand is playing in his longer locks on the top of his head, his other hand lazily swaggering with his body as he works his way closer, his gaze penetrating me from under his lashes.

  Just as the beat drops, he hops in front of me, legs spread, straddling my chair. His heavenly cologne assaults me, sending my head into a tailspin of lust while his shorts ride so fucking low on his hips that I’m acutely aware of the bulge starting to penetrate the fabric.

  Gripping the back of my chair with one hand, he leans slightly back so I have a great view of his chest and stomach rolling right in front of me. What I wouldn’t give to lean over and press my tongue up the entire length of his torso.

  I’ve never been so easily or completely turned on in my entire life. My clit is throbbing with each thrust of his, with every pass of his hand over his chest, and every glance he takes my way.

  I watch in fascination as his hips start to lower to mine, moving back and forth, his cock starting to grow with each thrust. When he lands on my lap, he starts to roll his hips on top of mine, dipping his cock into my core only to roll it up with his hips. The sensation of feeling his hardened cock graze me is so intimate, sensual that I try to spread my legs to feel his tip against my heated core but he keeps my legs clamped together with his.

  Leaning forward, his hips still working me, he gingerly wraps one arm around my neck, his fingers playing with my hair as he whispers in my ear. His rough, yet velvety voice sucking me in. “What did I tell you about that pussy? Keep your legs closed until I tell you otherwise.”

  I groan from his demand. Doesn’t he realize how badly I need to spread them? Doesn’t he know how much I’m throbbing for a light graze? The buildup of my arousal has hit a limit and right about now, any sort of rub against my slit would be appreciated.

  “Please, Hollis.” I try to press my legs against his to indicate what I want, but he doesn’t give in.

  Continuing to undulate his hips, he runs his lips along my neck, sending tingling needle-like pricks up and down my spine. He’s hitting every single sense of mine, making me melt right into the chair. His spare hand grips my hip, his thumb rubbing my skin in tandem with his thrusts, slowly working their way up to my breast where he looks at the connection and in rhythm with the song, pinches the hardened nub. I cry out from the pleasure shooting to my clit. Oh my fucking God, I’m coming.

  I’m pounding inside waves of pleasure rocketing straight form my core, making every limb on my body numb. I squirm beneath him but he doesn’t let up, he continues to assault my nipple, plucking it with such force that I think I might come once again just from his touch.

  “Oh God.” My head falls back and my hips try to move against him but he’s much bigger than me, making it impossible.

  When I think I’m about to explode from his deft fingers, he pulls away, and flips his body so now his back is to my chest. He rocks his ass into my lap, his hands on my knees now, keeping them closed. His legs are spread and with every roll of his hips, I feel his cock on my legs, heavy and ready.

  Why is it such a turn-on to feel him turned on as well?

  His hands move my knees, swiveling them together so my pussy rocks against the wood of the chair with each shift. I easily slide along the chair, my arousal making it easy. When I feel like I will have no relief, he spreads my legs, letting the cool air hit me, the ceiling fan above us whipping the air in the room.

  You always hear that term about people getting off from a light breeze. Fuck me, I think it’s about to happen.

  I try to press my hips forward, searching for any kind of friction, when Hollis closes my knees shut before I can seek any sort of relief. A tortured cry comes out of me. Hollis doesn’t care. Instead, he continues to roll his hips while slowly opening and closing my knees in time with the music. The move is just enough to make me think I might find some sort of release but it never puts me over the edge, instead it’s one fucked-up way to edge me out.

  “Hollis,” I practically yell.

  Turning again, he has his hands on my shoulders, his hips never relenting. “Have something to say, baby?”

  “You’re torturing me.”

  He smiles down at me, his scruff making him look sinister. “Good.”

  Lifting up, he moves his legs in and out, thrusting his erection in my direction, the thin fabric of his shorts hiding absolutely nothing. There is a light dot of pre-cum soaking through, which makes my clit throb harder.

  Muscles flex in front of me as he lowers his body down to the ground, only to hold himself up in a bridge position with one hand, the other hand in his hair as he thrusts into the air. Waves of abs contract below me. And his erection . . . Oh God.

  Dizzy from lust, all I can do is stare. Want.

  Moving forward, timing everything perfectly with the music, he takes hold of my knees with his hands and thrusts them open as the words “jump on it” ring through the room. His body rolls up mine, resembling a wave only for him to fall back to his knees. On the third swing, his head lowers to my pussy that’s exposed to the air, his nose running erotically on the side.

  Oh, fuck me. Fuck me, I’m so gone.

  On the fourth roll, he rubs his nose along the other side, my clit pounding out of control.

  Please for the love of God, just lick me. End this torture.

  “Please,” I beg. I’m not opposed to begging now.

  On the fifth roll, his head pauses, his tongue peeks out, and my body stills. My eyes are trained on his every move, willing him to finally put pressure against my clit, and right when I think he’s going to retreat, he dives his tongue forward.

  My hips fly forward, my head juts back, and I moan the loudest moan of my life. Without even thinking, my hands go to my breasts where I massage them as Hollis flicks his tongue up along my slit.

  “Yes, oh God yes, Hollis. Just like that.”

  I literally can’t feel my legs, I’m pretty sure they detached from my body. My lower half is actually non-existent. The only thing I can feel is Hollis’s forceful tongue greedily eating me alive.

  His thumbs glide closer and closer to my center as he continues to lap me up. He makes circular motions, until he moves my hips forward to the edge of the chair, parts my pussy with his thumbs, thoroughly exposing me. When I’m ready for him to finish me off, push me over the edge, he removes his
tongue and licks his lips while looking up at me. My clit is burning, seeking release, but now only being cooled off by the fan up above.

  I’m on the verge of tears. I’m so desperate. “Hollis, what are you doing?” I ask meekly, so wrung out from his teasing.

  “Just trying to decipher if you’re faking it or not,” he says with a smirk.

  I’m going to kill him.

  He must see the anguish in my eyes because he says, “Just say it, baby, tell me there is no way you can fake it with me.”

  I don’t even hesitate, the words fly out of my mouth before I can stop them. “Hollis, you’re by far the best I’ve ever had. I could never fake it with you.”

  That garners me a full-on grin.

  “That’s what I thought.”

  Stepping away, he shucks his shorts to the side, letting his cock spring forward. Staring down at me, he grips it with his strong hand and starts pumping himself. Memories of the night he jacked off in front of me coming flooding in, turning the heat up in my body one more notch.

  “Stand up, baby, turn around, and stick your ass in the air while placing your palms on the chair.”

  Not wanting to waste another second, I do as he says.

  “Spread your legs wider.”

  Once I spread them, I feel his body come up from behind, his heat pouring off him. With one hand, he runs his hand over my ass, squeezing it hard while the other rubs the tip of his cock along my soaking-wet pussy.

  “Oh fuck, baby. You’re so wet for me.”

  “Only you,” I mumble, blood starting to rush to my brain from the position.

  “That’s fucking right,” he calls out just as he slips his entire cock inside me, not taking his time at all.

  Once in position, he steadies himself at my hips, and then starts moving in and out of me. At first, it’s in time with the rhythm of the music, slow with little thrusts when he is fully inserted. It’s sexy as fuck, his body slowly dancing with the music as he fucks me from behind.

  And just when I think it can’t get any sexier, Hollis starts to sing, his voice deep, rough, sensual, telling me to ride his pony.