Let him go.

What are you thinking?! Are you high?! Well, you are, but that still doesn't excuse considering asking this dirtbag to have a stoner slumber party with you. In fact, you should set things straight. "So, Dirk, this was fun and all, but like a one time thing. And I don't think either of us want anyone to ever find out about this, right?"

Dirk smiles like a shark reassuring a drowning baby, "Sure thing, bud. I'll see you tomorrow." You want to tell him he doesn't have to come over, but you don't want to push your luck. Instead you watch him go and sink into the couch as his taste still lingers on your lips...

You hear the door close and realise you are still horned up. You watch the blond on screen fuck her throat on a fat cock, and despite your best efforts, you can't help but imagine yourself in her place. You let your drool fall onto your hand and stroke your cum slick cock. You lick your palm, tasting your weak seed, cursing yourself for wishing it was as thick and tasty as Dirk's. You close your eyes and imagine his cock stretching your throat again. You shudder, dribbling thin dribbles and feeling a slight gasp of pressure relieved, but nothing like what you felt before. You decide to turn in early and hope tomorrow makes more sense than today did...

....

You dream of hard cock and heady highs and you can't tell one from the other. You wake to a sore throat, cotton mouth, and a belly full of regret. You tell yourself that if Dirk drops by, you won't answer the door, and you'll pretend this never happened and find a new hookup...for weed...a new hookup for weed.

"There's Rip Van Winkie. Dude, I thought you were going to sleep all day." Dirk is standing in your kitchen, over a plate of scrambled eggs. Your stomach grumbles, your mouth waters, your mind reels...how did he get in? Didn't he lock the door behind himself last night? Wait...fuck, am I really that stupid? It turns out you are, and now you have to deal with this affable, atavistic "guest".

He's acting friendly, with "acting" being the operative word, but with Dirk, that's as much as you can hope for. He hasn't mentioned yesterdays..."one time thing" and a part of you just wants to let him hang out for a bit before finding a good excuse to get him out of here. But you can't help but notice the predatory gleam in his eyes again, and you don't want to know what he has planned for his prey, or why it has you half hard...

"Heeeeeey, Dirk, thanks for...dropping by? I hate to take up your time like this though. Maybe we can catch up later?" Dirk looks through you with his dead, killers eyes. You feel someone walk over your grave and you try to find words to appease him when he slides on an approximation of a smile.

"Aww...thanks. That's what I like about you, Brian, you're always so fucking considerate. Hey, tell you what, why don't I smoke you out for free for the millionth time since we're...such...good...friends?" His tone drips poison so thick you are surprised you aren't dead. You aren't sure which answer will assuage him. Should you smoke with him and hope he calms down? Or politely decline and hope he leaves?