Shake Hand Grip Table Tennis Novels & Stories

“What am I supposed to do?” “So, here’s how the game works Jack, this is a ping pong table but we’re not playing the traditional ping pong. It’s about how many times you score it in the cup. If the ball lands in the cup you win. The more you get from your opponent, the better.” Eric says. I can see Tanner walk into the room with Chelsea. There aremore people standing in the room than I thought. Tanner walks over to me. “That’s Chelsea’s ex. His name is Chase, no pressure, but you need to kick his ass at this game and win.” Tanner whispered.

Then, with the speed of a striking viper, my hand shot across the small gap between us. I didn't grab his hand. I reached lower. Under the cover of the heavy, draped white tablecloth, my fingers locked around his groin. I didn't just touch him; I gripped him, my knuckles turning white, squeezing with a precise, agonizing pressure that I had practiced on a few unfortunate stress balls in my office. Murray’s eyes went completely round. The color drained from his face so fast it was almost comical. He choked on his own breath, a strangled, high-pitched gasp escaping his throat. His posture went completely rigid, his spine snapping straight against the back of the booth.

Chelsea’s breath hitched as he reached around her, his large, calloused hands guiding hers onto the wood. "Lean down," he murmured against the shell of her ear, his voice a low vibration that made her toes curl. "Steady your bridge. Look through the ball, not at it." Chelsea bent over the table, acutely aware of how her skirt hiked up and how his breath ghosted over her neck. The tension was a living thing between them—thick, syrupy, and demanding. Following his lead, she pulled back and shot. The white ball cracked against the red, sending it spiraling across the felt and straight into the corner pocket with a satisfying thump.

The puck slid off course, hit the side rail at an odd angle and bounced clean into my goal. "That's six!" he announced. I gasped. "What the hell? You cheated!" He started to do the Dougie dance, which he was terrible at. "I just adjusted my grip on the table." "You tilted the whole surface!" "Debatable." He was already whooping, one fist in the air as he circled the table. People around were staring at us. "A bet is a bet, Kassidy!" "That was cheating, and you know it!"

I take a deep breath as I eye my target. Everything is resting on what happens next. One wrong move and it’s all over for me but I’m not about to let that happen. I’ve come too far to lose now. I watch as the puck glides quickly in my direction and with a quick flick of my wrist, I hit the mallet at the puck sending it across the table where it shoots right into the gap at the end of the table. I throw my arms up in victory and dance around.

She smiled again as she replied, "My pleasure too." Her smiles made her prettier. Believe me, her smiles could weaken the hands of a firing squad and make them defy the orders of their commander. We started our game by tossing hands, for a few minutes before the actual game started. Her Services were dangerously skillful. She flickled the ball with her bat, making the ball roll speedily and swiftly towards me. That made the tennis ball quite uncontrollable for my bat. She was a skillful table tennis player. She surprised me by the way she dished out skills one after the other like a maestro. The hot strokes, dangerous side-spinnings, point-bound loopings and sharp cuttings kept her ahead of

A word that had been extinct in this building for years. I entered the chamber to find it already thick with tension. Shawn stood at the far end of the long table, one hand braced on the surface, the other gripping a tablet so tightly his knuckles had gone white. Sleeves rolled once. Tie loosened. The raw, restrained power in his posture sent a slow pulse of heat between my thighs. I remembered those same forearms caging me against cool glass, his body driving into mine with deliberate, devastating control while he growled my name like a vow.

"ye....es" My clit was so sensitive by now. When the rubbing stopped it almost felt like a relief.... but suddenly two fingers were plunged deep into my opening. I couldn't help but clench around them and a sigh escaped my lips. Damon let them be there for a while. "You're so wet.... so ready for me sweetheart"... he said this while reaching down to kiss me... Then his other hand moved from my cheek and took a hold of both of my wrists and held them securely over my tummy. He kissed me again and then he crooked his fingers and started pumping.

Ah, so he doesn’t know? “You’re wrong…”, I sigh. “Hold out the palm of your right hand for me Takahashi”. Having no choice but to obey my commands, he holds out the palm of his only working hand. I calmly take the offered hand and swiftly crush it in my grip. Takahashi screams.

No wonder they were best friends. I ignored his rudeness and stuck my hand out, trying to gauge a proper greeting from him. "Hi, I'm Alexis" I said tentatively. I was still intimidated by his mysterious demeanour. He looked up from his phone once again, but this time his heated gaze was on the hand I was sticking out towards him. He looked back and forth between me and my hand before sighing in exasperation and putting his hand in mine. Yes, putting his hand in mine. He didn't even put the effort in to shake my hand. It was called a handSHAKE for a fucking reason! I clenched my jaw and shook his hand.