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Fuck. I need to get laid.

I need to sink my teeth, and fingers, and dick into something soft, wet, and tight.

I could. There are two dozen girls in my phone that I could message right now and ask to come over, lead up to my room, and finally get some relief.

All of that seems weird now. I don’t know if it’s the sobriety or not wanting Reese’s judgment, but in my heart (and maybe my cock) there’s no doubt that getting to know Nadia better has made the thrill of having puck bunnies at my beck and call lose a little bit of it’s thrill.

This.Thisis why men treat women as objects. Getting to know their thoughts and feelings about shit makes things complicated.

Because while I could be getting my nut off, I’m sitting on my bed, alone, staring at my laptop and the third hour of the drug education video I’m required to watch during my probation.

I’m almost done with the current segment: Marijuana and the Student Athlete when there’s a knock at the door.

“What?” I ask, pausing the video.

The door opens a crack and Reid sticks his head in. “I’m out of condoms.”

I raise an eyebrow.

“Got any?”

I jerk my head at the bedside table. “Top drawer.”

“Thanks man.”

He pushes the door open and I see his bare upper body and yep. He’s buck naked.

“Dude seriously?” I say as he runs in, with his hand attempting to cover his junk. As if I haven’t seen his hardware a million times in the locker rooms. “Jesus, put some fucking pants on.”

“Sorry!” he fumbles with the box. “I was halfway in when Darla told me she was on antibiotics and we needed to double up.”

He snatches a couple packs and exits the room, giving me a full view of his hairy ass.

Is it wrong that all I feel is jealousy?

I slam the laptop shut and reach for my phone, firing off a text.

GoalieGod: I hate this plan.

T: What plan?

GoalieGod: The no more epic fuck-ups plan. It’s boring. And my balls hurt from lack of use.

T: I’m sure you’ll survive.

GoalieGod: Don’t tell me your pussy isn’t lonely, T.

T: Jesus, you’re pathetic. You know that?

GoalieGod: YES! That’s what I’m saying. I’m thinking that maybe we should call off this deal. Or like give it a one night reprieve. I need some fun. And some pussy. And a fucking drink.

There’s a pause.

GoalieGod: Sorry, I’m a terrible safe space.

T: LOL you really are, but if I’m being honest, you’re right. My pussyislonely and I’m all alone which makes it dangerous.

My cock tightens at the mention of her pussy and I groan into my fist, before typing.