Shake Hand Grip Table Tennis Novels & Stories

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.

"We're always happy to support quality journalism." I added my smile to the tableau, shaking Harrison's hand with adequate firmness. Not too aggressive, not too soft. The perfect wife grip.

‘Come on,…come on. Please, please let me win.’ Shayla and I both stood still watching the ball go round and round and round before it drops. We lean over and stare at the number before we look at each other. “Yes!” I exclaim, holding my club up over my head. Shayla stares at the number for a long moment before she looks at me. I reach over and take hold of her chin and tilt her head up. “Pucker up baby, these lips are mine for the week,” I say gazing into her green eyes, and she pulls her head back sulking.

Yes, I have a fiancée, I respect her a lot, and didn't you know there are different kinds of relationships. She shook her head. 'Whatever the case might be, whatever relationship you want to have with me, it is not happening. Everything is fine the way it is, we should remain the way we are.' 'Are you sure?' She nodded. 'Yes, I am.' 'What happened earlier? What is that called?' She put her finger to her lips. 'Shush! What are you saying, it was a mistake, my mistake and I'm sorry, I thought you were Katie, please forgive me.'

my waist started moving on its own at the rythm set by his hand. His other hand traveled to my chest, uncovering my breast. A second finger found its way inside me as he closed his mouth around my nipple. That was enough to make me climax. I shivered and moaned loud as we slowly come to a stop. He claims my mouth once again as my body calms through the pleasure. “Now you’re relaxed” He says as he breaks the kiss. “W-What?” My breath falters when I try to get it under control. “That’s what this was? To relax me?”

An unexpected shiver ran through my body at her softness. And then I thrust into her, filling her in one swift, punishing stroke. She gasped, her hands gripping the edge of the table, knuckles white as she tried to steady herself. The table shuddered beneath us with every violent movement, each thrust sending a shockwave through her body, making her breath catch and her back arch.

The room buzzed with the thrill of the game, and spectators eagerly watched the poker players' strategies unfold. In another corner, a group of friends engaged in a fierce game of table tennis. The rhythmic sound of the ball bouncing back and forth created a melodic undertone to the pulsating music. Quick reflexes and nimble footwork were on full display as the players fiercely competed, their movements blending seamlessly with the beat. Spectators cheered and applauded each well-executed shot, creating a boisterous ambiance that further fueled the players' determination.

My heart was sprinting laps. Her hand slid up again. I stopped existing. Before she turned my brain into mashed potatoes, something flew into the garden. A white table tennis ball shot through the air like a tiny missile— —and headed straight for her head. Instinct hit me like lightning. I caught it midair with one hand. With the other, I shoved her back into her chair. Her mouth opened in shock. My pulse went WILD. Saved by whatever stupid thing this was: “What the hell?” she breathed.

My fingers clenched the edge of the table until my knuckles turned white, the only anchor holding me in my seat. “How dare you?” I hissed, my brows furrowed in pure fury. Before I could stop myself, I raised my hand, intent on wiping that smug look off his face. He moved faster, catching my wrist mid-air with a grip like iron, stopping the slap just inches from his cheek. The contact was electric and humiliating. “Don’t you dare,” he chided, his voice dangerously calm as he forcefully pushed my hand back down onto the table.