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I mean…I know that when my mind isn’t this fucked up.

Focused on Teach.

But he brought up a good question.

Should I bring her?

Fuck, could I?

She’s my teacher.

I’m her student.

There’s so much shit to unload there before you add in the fucking age-gap.

You know.

The one that doesn’t fucking bother me, but definitely fucks up her view of shit.

Explaining to the club that I’m enrolled in a college course – just for the fuck of it – isn’t exactly a headache or ball bust I need.

Plus, she’s innocent.

Pure.

This shit isn’t her.

She wouldn’t flash the Rugrats her tits just to get an invite to one of our shindigs.

Likely doesn’t drink or smoke or even know what a fucking bong is.

Hell, she’s probably never even seen a gun in real life.

And me?

I’m on the other end of the spectrum.

I’ve put my dick in chicks whose name I didn’t know.

Been so fucked up it was my name I couldn’t remember.

Stay ready so I ain’t gotta get ready all day every day.

We don’t fit.

We probably shouldn’t even fucking try.

But fuckme because all I wanna do is try.

“Fuckman, you thinkin’ ‘bout her right now?” my best friend prods when I don’t answer. “Her rack that stacked?”

It’s not.

And I don’t mind.

There’s no need to complain.

Her tits will fit perfectly in the palm of my hands.