9

I let them go to their respective classes and head to mine. Kill goes to the med school building, and Jeremy and Nikolai, who are in business school, go to that building. The walk to my first class is constantly interrupted by students and professors greeting me, talking to me, wanting as much of my attention as they can get. They’re like sponges, sucking on and soaking up my words and smiles and empty compliments just so they’ll grow bigger and more inflated. While I usually don’t mind, their constant noise is worsening the headache I woke up with today. Sleep evaded me for most of last night, and when I did nod off, I dreamt of a man in a skeleton mask with gold serpents wrapping his fingers around my dick and squeezing until it hurt. I remember thinking that I don’t find men attractive. And his veiny hand around my cock shouldn’t make it so hard that it’s leaking precum. But then he was jerking me off, roughly, until it hurt—the way I like it but have never had it. And I grunted, in