I've been picking at the tear in my jeans for the last fifteen minutes. The foot of that same leg has been tapping the floor relentlessly for almost the entire duration of this meeting. I glance up for what feels like the hundred-billionth time and look at the room of dead faces. These faces are essentially the same as the last faces except for the fact that there's no women in this group. This is an all men's group, no fucking and sucking is going to be happening here.

"Sean, would you like to share today?" Shit-haircut-guy asks. He asks me every week. "It's been four weeks since you first started group, we'd love to hear from you."

I fucking hate this guy. No, I don't want to share my life's shitty experiences with Ted, Fred, Ned, Steve, and Jim, or whatever their fucking names are. I look up at the caged-in clock, watching as it slowly ticks my life away. Spending every Wednesday night in this dank shit-hole basement is nearly impossible without the prospect of getting pussy or head now.

"What do you say, Sean?" He smiles at me. It's grimy and gross. "It might help to open up." I shrug. "Why don't you tell us why you're here? That's a good place to start."

"Maybe next week." More like never.

"Okay, Sean." He sighs and gives me a sad smile.

If there ever was a person to kill your libido it'd be this fucking guy. From his gravelly voice that's just an octave above a normal tone to his greasy dirty-blonde, slicked-back hair that looks like his mother still cuts it, this guy is a boner killer. The epitome of one. I'm sure any woman who sees this guy immediately turns into the Sahara Desert.

Instead of me sharing, a new guy named Aaron starts in. His story of psychedelic events from the past week sounds rather familiar. He's just about as jittery as I am too. I suppose everyone here is cut from the same fucked-up cloth.

After what seems like a fucking eternity in that musty Church basement, I'm heading down the steps to my truck. I think back to what the guy said about sharing my shit and laugh as I then think back to Monica standing there, staring at me like I was the saddest thing she'd ever seen in her existence.

Yeah fucking right. You couldn't pay me enough to go through that shit again. Even if it was to a group of guys more pitiful than me, there's just no way. Shit-hair-cut-guy would have better luck trying to pull out my teeth.

I step up into the cab of my truck after I open the heavy black door. I'm in the mood for something different tonight, something to really just burn my nostrils off. I think I'll grab a bottle of Tanqueray so I can just burn the rest of the evening away as well.

Gin. Every woman I've ever been with says it smells like Pinesol. Which, if you ask me, the two of them do have something in common. Other than the fact that they both have a strong scent, they both have an ability to clean shit up. The shit being my life, because I'm going back to my apartment tonight.

Fuck my life.

After nearly a month away from the damn thing I'm hoping the whole Monica situation is over with. Maybe we can just tone it down to a hello here and there. Just a few awkward waves in the hall, if that. Maybe just an awkward glance is better. Yeah, better to just not even say a word to each other and after the amount of time I've been gone she's most likely moved on to someone else anyway.

Hopefully not someone like that last asshole.

But it's not my job to care about that anymore or really even care about her anymore. Monica is her own person. She's an adult and can make her own decisions, her own mistakes. I don't need to be the person who's there helping her through her shit. I've already got enough shit of my own going on.

I flick my cigarette onto the pavement as I step out of my truck before I enter the liquor store. I look over to the clerk, she's new. She's a rather curvaceous and busty blonde with curly hair. She's also got a nice smile too. She seems way too sweet to be working in a place like this, especially on this side of town.

I walk directly to the isle that has what I'm looking for. I pick up a bottle of Tanqueray from the shelf by the handle and head back to the clerk with it. I set it down and give her smile while I run my hand through my hair. The action has her sputtering over her heavy Bostonian accent in a rather comical fashion. It makes me want to chuckle, but I don't. No need to embarrass the poor girl.

"No, no bag needed, sweetheart." I say, answering her question as she finishes ringing me up. "Have a nice night." I grab the bottle and head out the door.

I'm about to hop in my truck when I think I hear a woman's voice call my name. "Sean?" The voice says again as I turn around to see someone approaching me, "Sean McCaslin?"

Well, she knows my full name. That probably means I've slept with her at some point. As she gets closer she does look somewhat familiar, vaguely. Yeah, I've probably fucked her before but I can't be absolutely certain. She's really slender and tall, looking almost like a model. I usually liked my women with a bit more curves but I would definitely fuck her.

"Hey, uh..." I don't remember her name, I never remember any of their names. It's times like these though where it makes me look like a complete asshat. I mean, I'm aware I am one, but still.

"Nadine." She says as she tucks her dark brown hair behind her ears. She bites down on her bottom lip seductively and flutters her long lashes at me. That's the signature move for a woman when she's thinking about dick, my dick. "We met at the club you work at a few months back. We ended up at your friend's loft and uh, well." She smirks. "We had a good time."

That explains why I barely recognize who she is. I was probably fucked up beyond all comprehension and it sounds like she was too. But she seems like she's completely fine with the fact that I don't really remember her and that's most likely because she's dark and fucked-up, just like me. Also, she's probably chock-full of daddy issues too.

"Nadine, that's right." I say it like I remember but I am still absolutely fucking clueless as to what series of events happened between us. I'm just going to assume the usual which would be my dick in one of her orifices and the two of us moaning and groaning until we both saw stars.

We stand like this, just looking around aimlessly for a few seconds longer and it's the most awkward thing in the universe. How do you continue to have a conversation with someone you probably fucked senseless but can't even remember their name let alone the sexual experience?

She's shifting from side to side nervously. She's looking around, looking at everything but me. "You, uh, you have plans for the evening?"

She wants to fuck again.

"Nope, no plans for the evening." She's looking at me expectantly. She wants me to invite her over or wherever the fuck it is she thinks I'm going. I do a mental eye-roll as I shake the bottle in my hand and say, "I can't drink this all by myself." That was a lie. I could and would drink almost this entire thing by myself but that probably wouldn't get me laid tonight.

Even though I haven't been able to sleep with anyone since... Nope, fuck that. I'm not even going to allow my brain to go there with this minx in front of me. I usually don't fuck the same girl twice but I don't even remember our first time, so there's that.

She bites her lip again and flutters her heavily mascaraed eyes at me. "I don't have any plans either. So it looks like we're both in luck that I was here for the same reason you are."

"And what reason is that, sweetheart?"

She steps closer, touches the bottle in my hand as she licks her bright-red lips. "Because, like you, I'm rather thirsty tonight and need something to drink on this lonely Wednesday evening."

It's not about to be lonely anymore.

"You thirsty?" I smirk.

She steps onto her tip-toes as she places her lips to my ear. "Absolutely parched, hunny."

"Then follow me back to my place. I live right around the corner." I give her that devious sideways smile that women seem to love so much. Her eyes sparkle and I can practically see her wetting herself in front of me.

Apparently I had left quite the impression on this particular female, my dick tended to do that. Usually, my arrogance and asshole personality ruined it the next morning though. This woman seems not to care about that, which means that yes, she does indeed have daddy issues.

"I'll follow you if you promise to make it worth my while."

I chuckle, "you wouldn't be talking to me at all if you had any doubt about that."

Her eyes are practically fucking radiating lust. "That's true."

Yeah, my fuck game was on point that evening for sure, but when was it not? Probably won't be tonight, asshole. My neon sign of fucking and sucking isn't working properly anymore. The thing is barely lit these days. It would appear that the damn thing would never be beaming again.

She pulls away from me and then walks over to her car. I jump in my truck and reverse out of the space. I wait until her headlights are behind me and then take off. This was the first time I'd be going back to my place in weeks. I'm pretty sure I had thoroughly drowned my brain of any thoughts of Monica over that time period, at least I really hope I have for my dick's sake.

It's not long before we're pulling into the parking lot of my apartment complex. I show Natalie where to park after I put my truck in its designated spot. I pull out my smokes and light one up as I wait for her to come over. A hearty smoke-filled sigh escapes my lungs as I rake my hand threw my newly-cut hair.

I had just gotten it cut since Trevor said I was beginning to look like a fucking bum. Which, I don't doubt I was beginning to after the not-so-little bender I'd gone on. It was now back to its usual look of short on the sides and longer on the top.

Nadia struts her way over to me, her black heels clicking on the pavement as she does. I feel a slow hunger build inside of me as I look over her skin-tight black dress. Who wears dresses like that on a Wednesday night? It doesn't matter because it looks good, damn good and so does the bottle in my hands.

I smirk as she gets closer because my inner demons are about to be fully satiated in pussy and gin. You know what they say about gin and juice. As soon as she reaches me I pull her into me by her hipbone. I bite her bottom lip and run my tongue along the perimeter of her mouth. She lets out a low moan which has me smirking against her lips.

"Let's get inside, yeah?" I say and she nods automatically. This is almost too easy. Then again I had, well, I'm pretty sure I had, already dicked her down.

I kiss her all the way through the apartment entrance, not even paying attention to my surroundings. Her hands are at my belt, my hand is on her waist, both of our breathing begins to accelerate. My endorphins start pumping as we hastily stumble up the steps. How I've managed to hang onto the bottle in my hand is a fucking mystery to me.

Once we finally make it up the steps Natasha starts rubbing me through my jeans. It feels good but being here is a big fat reminder that I've had better, much better. I picture another set of lips, another set of hands on me. I picture the most perfect mouth making the most perfect noises.

"I forgot how big you were." She purrs against my lips bringing me completely out of my Monica induced fantasy.

"No need to lie, sweetheart. I know you didn't forget." Or we wouldn't be here right now.

"And how do you know that?"

I slam her up against the outside of my apartment door. "Because you wanted me to bring you back here and fuck you senseless." I wrap my hands around her wrists, bringing them above her head. I grind myself into her saying, "tell me again how you don't remember me inside you."

I mean, personally, I couldn't tell her anything about the experience between us because I didn't remember it, but I knew it was something she wouldn't forget.

"Mmm fuck, you were so good."

Thanks for the conformation.

I grunt against her lips as she grinds herself against me some more. I'm kissing her hard, almost painfully. She moans out as she continuously rocks herself on me. I somehow manage to jam my key into the lock but then freeze.

I freeze because I hear a series of giggles from behind me. Not just anyone's giggles either. No, they're Monica's giggles.