Peter Griffin Knee Meme Novels & Stories

“Open your mind and feel our shared connection. It works both ways. You must feel something.” Without thinking of the consequences, I shoved my knee hard into his groin and watched him drop to the floor, the room erupting into the sound of brash laughter. “How do you like that energy, Fuck Face,” I grunted the words out, because if the pain in his balls were half as bad as the pain that shot through my leg, then I was proud of my achievement. “Alex,” Grayson called out, giggling. “Let her rest. This can wait until the morning.”

She shrieked loudly, kissing the damp fabric and waving it over her head like a trophy. What was so special about it? I thought bitterly. It wasn’t even dry. Julian had been sweating, there was no doubt it would reek. Behind me, the noise suddenly exploded into screams, cheers and whistles. The cheerleaders had noticed Mr. Ashford pulling off his shirt to change into a casual one, the kind required for a coach on the rink. His movements were effortless and unbothered by the attention he was drawing. Even Thea screamed along with them.

I wonder how he looked like without his hoodie, glasses and mask, “ Hey, Grace right?” Peter said from behind, I didn’t notice him sitting behind us, “ Yes.” I replied with a smile, “ I’m warning you, Heath is a very moody person but seems like he likes you since he rarely talks back to anyone.” He said and I blushed, “ Shut the fu•k up Peter!” Heather growled and Peter laughed while sitting back in his seat, I didn’t stare at him and hid my red face. Gosh, why am I blushing so much?

My chest tightened. “If that hits the frat group chat,” Peter said lightly, “or your department email list… or your stepbrother Drake maybe… I’m sure people would love it.” Drake. Of course he brought Drake into this. My hands started shaking. “You’re disgusting,” Brandon snapped. Peter smirked. “Relax. I’m not homophobic. I’m broke. Big difference.” “You don’t get to threaten us and act chill about it,” I said. “Then pay me,” he replied simply.

With both hands busy, Grimm’s knee still bops and bumps while he clacks away on the laptop with more than a few other gadgets tacked on to the device. Puppy’s mouth must be attached to the same motor as his leg as he talks us through all the tech crap he’s doing. “Fuck me kid...” I know Rourke’s about to demand the same thing I am ‘English’. Daddy barely gets out the correction he can’t bite down before Grimm lands a comeback with a wit as fast as the rest of his hyperactive parts. “Forgot my lube, and you’re missing a few zeros on my check before I deep throat a King Kong cock,” my coffee flies out of my nose as much as my mouth.