Page 57 of By the Pint

“Well, I can’t imagine submitting to the Assembly’s rule, and I don’t much fancy termination either, so you’d better fully prepare me for what’s to come. Or at least, attempt to prepare me.”

I nodded. Unsure of my reaction to his answer. I realised I spent a lot of my time around Casey feeling confused. Not knowing which part of my body I should let guide me. My head told me this was a bad idea. That I should keep things transactional. Treat Casey like a student. My heart told me it was a very fucking bad idea. Run. Run the fuck away. And never look back. My dick, on the other hand, and my fingers, were telling me this was sliced bread. The greatest idea in un-living history. That I should get on my knees for Casey. That I should toss my quilt aside and peel open his belt buckle like a Winter Fest gift. That I should push him flat onto his back on the lip of the volcano and—

“You want to start the lesson?” Casey said, pulling me from my wandering brain. I didn’t know if I was relieved or not. “I’ve already found a thought and tucked it away. It’s a good one tonight.”

“Yes,” I squeaked out. Definitely relieved. “Do you need a moment to sort it out?” I gestured to his forehead.

“Nope, it’s all set. I came prepared.” And then he winked. He actually winked. It was hot, and confusing, and sent a flurry of nervous butterflies to my stomach.

“Okay.” I took a big gulp of Blooze, and I slipped inside.

Instantly the golf-course dissipated. The night sky, the bright course lights, the distant city were gone, and instead I was in a sweaty, cramped locker room. The people in Casey’s mind rushed to tell me their thoughts. Sometimes full sentences, sometimes reams and reams of an endless story that seemed to go nowhere, other times just single words shouted at me repeatedly. I paced the rows of lockers, looking for the correct one. Not that there were any visual identifiers, it was more of a ‘feel’. Like I could feel Casey’s thought trying to reach me.

Eventually, after what must have been close to thirty minutes, I found it. Any bog-standard mind reader would have given up by now.

The locker seemed to be pulsating and Casey himself buzzing, almost giggling, like his practical joke was about to come into fruition. Like if I opened his locker, a bevy of otters might tumble out and sing Happy Birthday to me.

Nerves coiled in my stomach. I opened it, and his thought hit me square in the chest. And in many other places too.

When I masturbate, I replay the noises you made as you came.

“Oh, gods,” I said aloud, pulling out of his mind so fast it might have given me whiplash. My dick was instantly hard.

“I figured you’d like that one.” A smug grin that would rival one of my usual smiles slid over his face.

“Casey, uh, holy crap.” I felt like a prude and an idiot, but I still hadn’t decided on C or D, and I didn’t want Casey choosing for me.

… Or did I?

It would certainly make things easier if I let him lead.

Could I do that, though? Fuck him again, fall a little bit harder for him, and then forget about him?

He shot a look into my lap, and I pulled the quilt up higher. “Feeling a little heavy?” he teased. “Ooh, actually, I am now, too.” He made a show of rubbing the heel of his palm against the centre of his trousers.

My head snapped to the side so I wouldn’t have to watch his face, but I heard his internally hissed,Oh, fuckat the sweet friction.

“Do you want me to try again? With another thought?” he asked, his voice breathier than a moment before.

“Not if they’re gonna be … you know, all sexy.”

Casey laughed. And I couldn’t help but lean into it. His laughter always filled me up in such a way that made me realise I’d been empty and craving until I’d heard it.

“I can’t promise it won’t be sexual. Can’t seem to stop thinking about sex recently.” I felt him watching me. Felt his minty, mind-reading presence lurking, as though waiting for me to let my own thoughts and fantasies slip through the barrier.

My eyes slammed themselves shut, adding an extra layer of protection between us.

Casey dropped his voice to a whisper. His grin was still stretched across his face. “Don’t tell me you never picture me when you jerk off. I already know you do. I don’t need to see your thoughts. You outright told me.” I bit down on my lower lip, and Casey adopted a borderline insulting, high pitched tone, “Don’t worry, I had a wank thinking about you too.”

My voice sounded nothing like that.

“I know I said that!” I half-shouted. “Can we just not, though? Can we move onto something else?” Though I had no right to ask him to stop thinking about me like that, when I couldn’t even erase my own dirty thoughts.

Casey shifted closer to me on the volcano edge. “So, you don’t do that anymore? You don’t picture me when your dick is in your hand? You don’t remember the noises I made? Or the feel of my body? All hard and warm pressed up against that wall. Or when we were there?” He pointed to the bottom of the volcano. “You don’t think about my cock squashed against your hip? Or when we kissed by the lake? Those aren’t the kind of thoughts that push you over the peak?” He watched me intently, his lips parted, hot breath filled the space between us.

Damn him. Why did he have to be so naturally brilliant at everything?

I swallowed. “Nope. Never. I don’t … dothat.” My voice came out as though I’d been sucking helium from a party balloon.

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