Page 106 of Stroked Hard
“I’m not sending you a picture of my boob,” she says in an exhausted tone.
“Just flash me.”
“Flashing you will lead to wanting to see my crotch, which will lead to begging for phone sex.”
She’s dead right.
“Is there a problem with that?”
Smiling, she shakes her head. “Not one bit. Start begging.”
***
“I liked NBC Olympics Facebook page.”
“Yeah?” I ask while sitting on my bed, eating a fucking salad. Holly has been my worst enemy.
“They sure do post a lot of things. I watched a clip on Reese. Did I ever mention how yummy he is?”
I’m staring down at my salad, when I say, “Care to repeat that?”
“He’s yummy. That tattoo, it’s sexy.”
“His penis is small.”
She throws her head back and laughs.
“I’m not kidding. He has to use a magnifying glass to find it. It’s a poor life he leads.”
“Is that right?”
“Yeah,” I lie.
The screen goes on pause and I ask, “What are you doing?”
“Texting my condolences to Paisley. Can’t be easy dating a micro penis.”
Shit, if she’s really texting Paisley I’ll hear it from Reese later. When her beautiful face comes back on the screen, she’s smiling brilliantly.
“I also saw a little clip about you and your previous Olympics.”
“Yeah? Like what you saw?”
“You were a little twig of a boy during your first Olympics.”
“A twig who won gold.”
“I would bet that your penis weighed more than your whole body. I think it’s the only reason why you didn’t float back and forth like a feather while diving.”
“I thank my dick every day for being my anchor.” Just then, a text comes through my phone.
Reese.
Reese: Having another inferiority complex about my dick? Thought we’ve already dealt with your issues. Do I need to call the therapist again?
Asshole.
“Did you hear me?”
