Bad Teacher

Again.

I just fucking can’t.

So I go back home, still moody as fuck, and surrender myself to a bottle of whiskey instead. Ninja is there to greet me with his usual squeaky meow, which sounds more like he’s whining for pussy than anything else.

“I know what you’re going through, boy,” I tell him, patting him on the head.

He rubs against my leg and then drops in front of my feet, rolling around on the floor to show me his balls. They’re huge, as always. I guess we have more than just the lack of pussy in common.

I settle for sitting on the couch after which Ninja joins me, pressing his gigantic balls on my lap. I don’t really give a shit, so I just keep scratching behind his ear while he drools on my shirt. It’s what we usually do when we’re alone. That, and eat dinner together.

He likes things quiet, just like I do. He also likes to watch television, specifically when there are other kitties on—probably because of the pussy. We would’ve had a perfect bromance, if it weren’t for the fact that he’s a cat.

I don’t even know why I’m enjoying myself the way I am right now, but I guess the whiskey is doing its thing. Quite effective, if you ask me. I already feel much, much better.

The only thing I need is a quick jerk off, and then it’ll all be good again.

My phone buzzes again, and I check the messages to see if it’s something important. Instead, it’s another pussy picture. Fuck me.

Thomas: Enough. Do you want to get caught or something?

Hailey: Anything to get the point across.

Thomas: And what point is that? Seeing if I’m still attracted to you? You’re right, I am, but that doesn’t make this okay.

Hailey: Just because it isn’t okay doesn’t mean it can’t be done. I don’t care about being caught.

I close the app and put my phone away before I do something I might regret.

I pick up the bottle of whiskey and take another sip straight from the bottle. I don’t give a shit if it gets me drunk. I need a good hangover right now to get over her and her sweet pussy. Fuck me, I can’t stop thinking about driving my fingers up in her, making her suck my dick for all the nasty shit she said.

My cock is already hard from the thought alone.

Goddammit.

Time for porn.

I grab my laptop and open the browser, but then someone rings my doorbell.

I roll my eyes and sigh out loud as I get up off the couch and walk to the door.

“What do you want?” I say as I open it, but when I see the face in front of me, I freeze. “Natalie …”

“Just checking up on you.” She glances sideways over my shoulder. “What are you doing?”

I try to block her view with my body. “Nothing important.”

“Hmm … well, aren’t you going to invite me in?”

“Depends,” I muse.

“On what? If I leave quickly?” She places her hand on the door. “I know what you’re doing, Thom. You’re hiding again.”

I frown. “Why the hell would you think that?”

“I can see the bottle from here, you know …” She raises her brow at me.

“So? Who cares. Yeah, I’m drinking. And I was enjoying myself too until you showed up.” I attempt to close the door, but she puts her foot inside.

“Why? Why do you keep doing this? I’m trying to help you.” She makes a face. “You know I’m the only one you have left.”

“Thanks, but I’m good,” I say dryly.

I know what she means. I don’t have any friends besides her, and my family is pretty much non-existent.

My mom and dad died in a car accident, and my brother … well, I prefer not to ever mention him to anyone.

Natalie sighs. “Stop drinking. For god’s sake, just try to adjust. Stop wasting your life.”

“Oh god, not again.” I rub my face with my hand. “Please, just go.”

“No, you need to man the fuck up and be the guy you promised you’d be.”

“That’s it. Go,” I growl. When she doesn’t move, I yell, “Leave!”

“Can’t you see this isn’t good for you? I’m the only one looking out for you.”

“I don’t need your help!” I yell. “All I need is to be left alone!”

I slam the door before she can say anything else.

She’s already said more than enough.

I know exactly what I’m doing, and I don’t give a shit if it’s bad for me.

She has no right coming to my apartment like this.

“Thom—” she murmurs through the door.

“Get the fuck outta here!” I yell back.

I wait until I hear her footsteps disappear, and then I saunter back to the couch, sinking into the pillows with a long, drawn-out sigh.

“Fuck me …” I grab the bottle of whiskey and chug it down.