Thigh Pillow Part 2

While she cleaned up the bottle and the wine stains from my floor afterward I lay on my pillow amidst a red catastrophe blotch of wine, feeling really mellow, my cock still somewhat tingly, my eyes closed. I listened to the squeaking of the paper towels and windex Emily pushed across the floor. I told her about how I’d woken up that morning on some random girl’s thigh because I had blacked out at the party and had no idea what her pussy tasted like, but that Emily’s tasted better, I was sure. As soon as I’d stopped telling the story, I realized she had stopped cleaning. She stood over me, just breathing. I didn’t look at her, I just heard her.
Emily said; “Dennis, you’re a fucking creep, you know that?” A pause. “I’m not going to fuck you anymore. You need help.”
She charged out the door and slammed it. I fell asleep almost immediately after.
The next day I tried washing my sheets but the wine stain wouldn't come off. I went to a therapy session with the school therapist, which I'd been required to see as a price for my shenanigans. I told her school was fine. I'd slept in that weekend and done my homework.

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