Page 116 of Stroked by (Stroked)
“Take your shirt off, Paisley.”
“Reese—”
“No, you don’t get a say in this. I need to see you naked and stretched out on that bed, baby. I’m hard as a fucking rock right now just thinking about what Melony said. Give me some release.”
Putting the phone down on the bed, I hear her shuffle around as I wait with anticipation, my cock growing with each passing moment. I grab hold of it and leisurely stroke up and down, waiting for Paisley to return.
Some more shuffling occurs and then her beautiful face comes into view. She is holding the phone close so I can’t really see if she listened to what I demanded, but before I can ask, she’s smiling and moving the camera down her body. I see her perfect breasts, nipples hard and piercings on display. From there, she continues to move the camera farther down her tight stomach to her hand that is cradling her pussy. From the angle she’s giving me, I can see her legs are spread and she’s already started to warm herself up.
“Fuck, Paisley, you’re so hot.”
“Only for you,” she says with a whisper.
I spend the next ten minutes, telling her exactly how I want her to touch her body, bringing us both to climax at the same time. It’s the release I need for tomorrow. I’ve been tense and this little FaceTime session was perfectly timed.
Before we get off the phone, I speak softly when I say, “Thank you, Paisley, for being at the games, for supporting me.”
Her eyes go soft and a small smile caresses her face. So beautiful. “You don’t have to thank me, Reese. I would be here for you no matter what. I’m just glad I get to be here in person. It’s kind of a dream come true.”
“It is for me too.”
We’re quiet for a second when she says, “You’re going to do great tomorrow.” I have my first race tomorrow. The 400 Individual Medley. We have heats and finals, I feel prepared.
“Thanks, baby.” I sigh and say, “I wish I could walk around the village with you tomorrow. Hold your hand and be total tourists.”
“Me too,” she says quietly. “But hey, you have a big race tomorrow, your first. I will be there early in the morning to cheer you on.”
“Can’t wait. I’m feeling really good, baby.”
“You’re going to do amazing, Reese. I can feel it in my bones.”
“Thanks. I will see you tomorrow.”
“Night.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
**PAISLEY**
“Heaven forbid they hold these things at a decent hour. What is so important that we have to get up at the ass-crack of dawn only to have to sit in uncomfortable seats made to torture people like Rosie O’Donnell and Robocop, while men prance around a disease-infested vat of water? I feel like we are back in Salem during the witch trials where we are trying to decide who to sacrifice next. My vote is on the clam-looking gentleman with the tattoo on his right hip that is in the shape of a fella’s semen.”
“I think that is a tattoo of a swim icon,” Melony points out.
“Oh, what do you know, you stupid cantaloupe,” Bellini mutters while moving in her seat, her arms crossed over her chest.
Getting her to Barra Olympic Park was a feat on its own. Not because she had to wake up early and be primped by Melony and briefed by Jasper and me, but because she wasn’t permitted to bring Pope Francis. The tears were nearly Melony’s undoing. Pretty sure she was on the verge of stabbing Bellini with an eyeliner pencil today. Luckily, we were able to calm her down just enough for Melony to get her job done.
How did we calm her down you might ask? Oh, just an entire pack of Tic Tacs, videos of Pope Francis during the trip from the hotel to the venue, and reassurance from Pocket that Pope Francis was going to be just fine. She stayed behind with the dog while Melony, Ruby, and I traveled to the stadium with Bellini.
Currently, Ruby is attached to Bellini’s hip at all times. I feel bad for her. Because Granny’s Garments apparently messed up Bellini’s religious wear for dogs, Ruby had to suffer the consequences. She wasn’t allowed to sew unless Bellini was in her presence.
It is all so ridiculous, only someone with an obscene amount of money would do. At least Ruby is being paid well, and her sewing ability seems to be impressing Bellini. She’s already made a few outfits that have pleased the devil herself.
“Boring!” Bellini shouts from the side of her mouth, cupping her hand near her lips to further project her rudeness.
“Bellini,” I chastise. “That’s rude.”
Looking me up and down, Bellini snaps back. “Well, it’s rude that you refuse to brush your hair when you’re around but you don’t see me chastising you, now do you?”
