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Raging Hard(124)

By:Hamel, B. B


How the hell could I have the energy to jerk off after a night of sex like that?

She drove me fucking insane, that’s how. Hopefully, though, that would help me get through the day without hunting her down and fucking her senseless.

I barely made it downstairs on time for PT, and I could tell Jess was already in a shit mood.

“Sleep in late?” she said acidly as the crew began setting up.

“Couldn’t help myself. Was dreaming of you all night.”

She rolled her eyes. “The usual stuff today. No surprises.”

I arched an eyebrow. “What makes you think there’d be any surprises?”

“Anything’s possible with you, Lincoln.”

Like fucking my stepsister?

I thought, but I didn’t say that one out loud.

“Glad you’re finally getting it.”

She laughed. “I got it a long time ago. You’re not exactly a big surprise.”

I felt the eyes of the crew on us. I glanced around the room and noticed Tracey was missing.

“What’s your deal this morning?” I asked.

“Nothing. Guess I’m getting sick of filming some spoiled jackass all day long.”

I stared at her. “You get rejected last night or something?”

“Not exactly.”

“Don’t take your shit out on me. You want to leave, be my guest. I don’t exactly love you following me around all the time.”

I could tell that pissed her off even more. I had no clue what was going on, but something had clearly happened. It probably wasn’t the best idea to throw more fuel on the fire, but I couldn’t help myself. If someone was an asshole to me when I hadn’t even done anything to deserve it, they could be damn well sure that I would make it worse.

“Whatever,” she said finally. “Where is Tracey, anyway?”

“I thought you knew.”

She shook her head. “Not a clue. But of course she’s missing today.”

Almost as if on cue, Tracey suddenly rushed into the room.

“Sorry I’m late!” she said, her usual chipper self.

I watched Jess cringe out of the corner of my eye.

“Everything okay?” I asked her.

“Oh, totally fine. My girlfriend just had car trouble this morning.”

“I’m sure you jumped her.”

“Totally. Good one.”

I grinned at her. “Might as well make jokes since you’re going to torture me anyway.”

“Damn right I am.”

After that, we dove right into it. Jess lingered toward the back of the room for the remainder of the session and barely spoke, which was basically a first. Usually, she was right up in our faces, giving us instructions on how best to convey how emotionally spent we were but also working as hard as we could.

She was constantly saying things like, “Lincoln, can you please convey a sense of futile hopefulness?” or, “Hold it right there and think about your legs, I mean really think about the pain,” or once even, “Now when you do this rep, imagine your whole extended family cheering you on, like you’re about to win an award for bravery.” Basically, she was insane on the best of days.

And for some reason, I missed her constant commentary. It had become a part of the routine. Tracey and I even got some sick pleasure out of it. She was getting pretty good at doing an “uptight Jess” impression.

The session went smoothly, though, despite Jess’s bad mood and Tracey’s rough morning. I couldn’t say I was exactly engaged, since an image of Brie’s body kept ringing through my skull like a bell, but that didn’t matter. Even if the only thing I wanted was to lie in that music room all day with Brie’s naked body next to mine, I had to focus.

I had to get my legs back.

Later, as the crew shut down and moved off for a short break, I sat with my back against the mirrored wall, panting. A memory from the night before came rushing back.

Her hands were pressed up against the piano’s lid, her back arched as I drove into her dripping pussy. It was the second time we had fucked, and I was already panting with exhaustion.

She looked over her shoulder at me. “Fuck me harder, Lincoln,” she groaned.

That set me off. I gripped her and slammed deep, putting my hips into it. Suddenly, after the third thrust, I felt the pain rush through me, the pain I had been ignoring as best I could.

“Fuck,” I grunted, pulling back and staggering.

“Lincoln!” she said, moving toward me.

I waved her off. “I’m fine. Just my fucking gimp legs. Standing like that is rough.”

“Fuck. I’m so sorry.” She touched my chest, concerned.

I looked at my dick, still rock hard. “Forget it. Seems like a waste to let a good hard-on go un-fucked.”