“And you’re acting as though this is news to you, because...” I shot him a look that told him exactly how stupid I thought he was being.
Kane flipped me off. “Well I suppose you’re right about that, at least. No news there. Okay, you won’t borrow from my parents, or take from the trust, but how about you borrow from the trust? Then pay that back when your businesses blow up? You could even charge yourself a ridiculous rate of interest, and guarantee big ROI for the fund.”
“So, you’re saying that because I refuse to take money from the trust, I should take money from the trust and just call it something other than taking money from the trust? What fucking breeze do you think I blew in on? One more time for the people in the cheap seats at the back. I’m not taking from the trust... or borrowing... or doing anything else that constitutes withdrawing cash from it, now or at any time in the future, until it’s time to use it for the purpose for which I originally intended. We clear?”
“As a fucking pane of glass. So, what are you going to do?” I didn’t miss the note of agitation in Kane’s voice as he spoke.
“Like I said, I’m going to remove the ‘problem’. With them gone, I won’t have to worry about any of this shit. Fuck them, and the fucking horse they rode in on.”
“And what exactly did you have in mind?”
“Well, that all depends on who they are and what ‘stimulus’ they’d respond to best in terms of ‘encouragement’. Everyone will respond to different things. Take fears or phobias, for example. One person will leap off a building to avoid a spider, the next will pass out from being at the edge of said building, but would give the spider a kiss and not even blink. We’ve just got to work out what buttons to press, then hit them hard until they crawl back under their rock.”
“Okay, so do you think you should maybe dial back the evil-psycho routine just a teensy bit?” He made a pincer movement with his thumb and index finger. “While we work out a game plan? Because, right now, you’re seeming a little unhinged to say the least, and I worry not only for your elevated blood pressure, but for the hole you’re about to wear into the rug with your incessant pacing. Cool it, bro.” I stopped pacing. “There we are. That’s better. Come sit.” He patted the couch, where he’d thrown himself while we were talking.
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Treat me like I’m some kind of fragile baby bird. We’re not fourteen, and I’m definitely not that guy anymore.” I shuddered at the thought.
“I know you’re not, and I would never suggest otherwise, but that doesn’t mean I’m ever going to stop looking out for you, whether you like it or not. In fact, especially if you don’t like it. Now, are you going to sit down and watch TV with me like a normal person, or what?”
“Okay, I have a bunch of papers to write though, so you watch whatever you want, because I’ll only have half an eye on the show, and half on someone else’s French Renaissance art assignment.”
“And even while only using half your brain capacity, and watching a show at the same time, you’re going to nail a paper, on a subject you don’t study, way better than the dumb bastard who’s paying you ever could.” Kane looked like he was torn between irritation and awe.
“Half? How much do you think they’re paying me for this shit? They’ll get quarter, if they’re lucky, another quarter will be watching TV with you, and half will be getting the much-needed rest you’ve been crowing about. Here.” I threw him the remote. “You choose the show, and I’ll go grab my shit to do these papers.”
On the way to my room, I dug my phone from my pocket and fired off a quick text to Xavier.
ME: Hey X, I need a favor. Can you hook me up with your data guy, please? I need to do some digging into college records.
Chapter 3
Rose
“My cock is massive.”
“Oh really? Tell me about it. How big is it exactly?”
“Twelve inches.”
I laughed internally. Any guy who claimed to have a full foot was rocking a wiener, for sure. “Oh my God, that’s my favorite length. Describe it. Is it thick too?”
“Yeah, it’s so thick, like a tree trunk.” Not even a wiener. A champignon. Something so small, he couldn’t even call it a hand job. It was a finger job, because a hand would be too big.
“And when you’re hard, do the veins pop?” I prompted.
“That’s right, it’s thick and veiny.” He sounded so pleased with himself that I really was struggling to contain my laughter.
“Ugh, I’m so wet, just thinking about your thick and veiny cock. You know what I love to do?” I’d love to not be on the phone talking to a guy about his imaginary huge dick.
“What?”
“I love to lick those bulging veins with the tip of my tongue. I mean really take my time, and slowly trace every single one, over and over.”
“Yeah baby, ugh.”
“Are you squeezing yourself?”
“Yeah.”
“Squeeze tighter, and think about my hot breath, flowing over you as my tongue licks you agonizingly slowly. Then think about what it will feel like when I open wide and suck you inside me with all my might.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah. And you want to know something?”
“What?”
“I have a tiny hot mouth, but no gag reflex, so you’re going to fill it up so good, and I’m going to love it. Okay, so now I’m going to open up as wide as I can, and you’re going to push inside, you ready?”
“Yeah. Let’s do it.”
“Cool. I’m opening wide, right now, and I want all of you, even though I know you’re too big, give me everything you’ve got.”
“Yeah... ugh... oh my God.”
“Uh, yeah, baby, give me more. I want you so far down my throat I can’t breathe.”
“Uh... ah... uh... ah...”
“Yes baby, I love it. Give me more, faster, harder. I love the way you’re hitting the back of my throat, but take it easy, I need it long and hard.”
“I want to come down your throat, you fine fucking bitch.”
“Oh, I want that too, baby, so much. But I want you to ride my mouth first, while I fuck my hand until I come. Let’s take it slow, so we have more fun.”
“Slow...”
“Yeah, just like that, fuck my mouth slowly, so I choke on your thick, veiny dick...”
I managed to carry on like that for another forty minutes, before “Garry” finally lost it, and came “down my throat.” I logged off and brought my bioengineering paper back up on the screen. It had to be turned in the next day, and although I needed the money, I secretly hoped that Garry would be my last call for the night so that I could focus on it. It was late—already past midnight—and I was a little over halfway through writing it.
It was only midway through the third week of the semester, and between work and school, I’d had what felt like barely eight hours’ sleep the entire time. I was lucky that I didn’t need as much rest as many people did, but still, the situation didn’t feel sustainable in the long term, and this was before my true study workload had kicked in.