I wave a hand at the caddies and push into my rooms.
I’m not in the mood for that shit. I grab my pack and my whiskey and set off in a golf cart.
I push the little beast far out on to the course, where it’s nice, quiet, and dark.
I throw my clubs on the ground and tip back the bottle, gulping down a good measure before I can even think.
I bend over, gripping my knees.
Who the fuck is she? This hot cunt, thinking she can speak to me like that? What makes her so special, so smart?
I put the bottle down carefully and thrash the fuck out of my golf bag before I can actually get the clubs out.
This is what you have caddies for. I set up a few balls, grab a nice heavy iron, and swing the shit out of it. After hitting the balls, I whip the grass a bit, bending the iron.
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” I yell out loud.
This night is fucked. Everything is fucked.
I didn’t know there were women in the world like Kat.
It’s not something I ever thought about.
Surrounded by sharks and bimbos, I made the only defense I could.
Be the bad boy, fuck the shit out of them, and never look back.
Simple. Everything in life was just fucking simple.
I sit down on the grass, leaning my back and head against it as I tip the whiskey back again.
I know what makes Kat think she’s special, and smart.
Because she fucking is—that’s why. She knows it.
She’s fully aware of her self worth.
She can speak to me like that because I’m a womanizing cunt with a reputation as long as my rock-hard cock. I don’t know why I ever thought anything could happen.
I just took one look at her and thought, well, here I am with my cock in my hand…or in a bow, whatever, and there’s a foxy bit of woman in a sexy thin shift—and why the fuck not?
How could I have not known the difference between banging girls and making love with a woman?
I honestly thought making love was
messed up bullshit in movies or something. No one alive ever actually did it.
But now, I can’t stop thinking about that velvet skin under my hands. The way she swallowed my cock—not just playing with it or sticking the head between her lips, but really getting it down her throat.
The way her eyes roll back with pleasure as she’s doing it.
I want her. I want her so bad I’d be happy to just sit next to her and hear her talk…with a great big raging boner, of course.
But if she never wanted to fuck me again, I’d take that sweet scent and throaty voice over nothing at all.
I run through a list of casual bimbos in my mind.
Sluts I can bang any way I please to take out my frustration.