I’ve done enough bad shit to earn all this, but it doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting. I don’t have to accept what karma dealt me with a smile on my face. Much rather be face first in a puddle of my own vomit as I accept defeat than in the presence of people who don’t give a damn about me.
That’s why I still haven’t text Prue back. I’m borderline drunk and more than a little turned on at the memory of the way her throat felt. But she is the last person I want to see me like this.
My pity party is not something she gets to attend.
She would gloat if she saw what went down tonight. I can just imagine the way she would’ve glared at me after I spilled the beans about Stacy being pregnant. Her blue eyes would’ve sliced me open right there for them all to see.
I bet her eyes would’ve fallen out of their sockets from rolling so much as I pissed and moaned about taking time off from touring. I can just hear her saying ‘I told you so’ after Aaron made it a point that I was the only one not doing anything with their life.
I shouldn’t even be thinking about her right now. I’m drunk and miserable. Yet a part of me craves her company. When was the last time I craved a specific girl’s company? Never. I mean, I’ve drooled over hot girls before, but once I put my cock in them, I was done.
I’ve never wanted a girl outside of her body before. Still don’t. Not really. I just want more of Prue’s body.
She has the perfect body. She hides it under those turtlenecks and tights. Not normally my type. I like edgy girls, not prim and proper, but the idea of ruining her neat demeanor excites me.
She is also bitchy in the best ways. Not afraid to hurt my feelings, even enjoying it a bit. She doesn’t bite her tongue with me. Doesn’t hold back. She’s completely unimpressed with me. It’s refreshing. I enjoy someone who isn’t afraid to push back.
I don’t think she likes me. The part of me that craves misery enjoys that. I don’t need her to like me. I’d prefer her to hate me. It’s what I deserve.
I try not to dwell on the other girls I’ve been with. They are just a blur of memories. Good times were had with each of them, but they never did more than scratch an itch. I used them for sex. Had them warm my bed, got them off, and let them return the favor.
The rock star life has always been sex, drugs, and rock and roll. I can’t do the drugs anymore, so I double take in the sex part.
I make everyone I sleep with aware that I’m not in it for a relationship. Many have tried to change my mind regardless of my warning. I’m not opposed to letting them try, particularly if they are a good fuck. I won’t say no to fucking the same girl twice, but I’m never going to be the guy to buy them chocolate or meet their parents.
Prue knows that. She isn’t stupid. She has a rock star for a brother, she knows the deal. Plus, I’m not her type. She apparently likes rich, frat boys with tiny dicks.
She is just using me to make that ex of hers jealous. Or maybe she really did just like having a cock in her mouth and didn’t care who it belonged to. Doesn’t matter much to me. I just want to return the favor.
I desperately want to taste her. Fuck I would’ve had her spread her legs in that classroom if I could. The desire to let her know how good I could make her feel is overwhelming.
Always is. It’s like after everything that happened in my life, I’m now programmed to please women. I need to be the best they ever had. Make them cum and leave them with the memory of a great time.
I would love to do that with Prue. I bet after she experiences my tongue and fingers, that attitude of hers would wane. Maybenot forever, but a few doses of my cock and I might be able to tame her.
Oh, fuck it. I don’t want to tame her, it’s just the fun of trying. I think taming Prue would be robbing the world of a masterpiece. We need more bitchy girls who aren’t afraid to call people out.
She said that wasn’t who she is, but I see it differently. Maybe she pretends to be coy and sweet, but I bring out a layer of bitch in her that makes her shine. I bet with the right coaching the girl could light the world on fire.
Judging by her asshole of an ex, she deserves to do it. Let her get some revenge for whatever she’s been through. I don’t need to know the details to know she earned her vengeance.
I’d be happy to help. Cheer her on as she burns this whole planet to the ground. I’ve never been able to do it. Never had the strength to get revenge, get even, or destroy anyone else but myself.
I would gladly let Prue ruin me as practice.
I don’t know why, but I think I would enjoy it too. Something about her is a welcome change. I’m not going to be her boyfriend, maybe not even her friend, but I wouldn’t say no to a small fling with her.
We’d both know where we stood. She could hate me but get off while doing so. I could self-destruct with my cock in her.
They say misery loves company, and clearly, we are both miserable right now. Together, we could find a semblance of comfort. Rebel in the chaos. Enjoy the destruction. One of us taking, and the other giving.
Staring at her message in my phone, now way more intoxicated than I should be, I wonder if bringing her into my pathetic life is wise. She deserves better, she doesn’t know it, but she does.
I’m just a giant asshole. Even if I could teach her how to embrace her inner bitch, she doesn’t need me ruining her life.
Yet as the bartender ushers me out of the bar into the chilly winter night, I decide fuck it. Let Prue decide my fate. Let her make the decision.
And so, I call her.
