The F#ck It List: The Complete Story (15 page)

I can never go back to vanilla sex, nothing but the missionary position ever again. I’m not even sure I’ll ever find as much satisfaction from just fucking one person again. Maybe I should have saved this item on my list for last. I could have gone out with a bang, so to speak.

Though this is less a bang, and more like fireworks, or even a damn nuclear explosion.

With each shove they make inside me, my nipples brush against the gold comforter. With each shove they make, a garbled grunt comes out of me, joining with the symphony of their hisses and moans and grunts and growls.

Instead of three separate people clashing together, we move as one body. A single organism or being made up of sex and lust and a raging desire for release.

Brennan’s cock grows in my mouth, swelling and signaling he’s reaching his release first. His cum spills onto my tongue and slides down my throat. I drink every bit of it down, cleaning him all over with my tongue. He slips out of me and collapses beside us on the bed, watching Scott fuck me, idly reaching out and playing with my nipple. My head falls forward until my forehead rests on my bent arms, no longer strong enough to keep anything upright except my ass.

Scott starts ramming me with a furious frenzy, like he’s determined and desperate to break me and remake me. I feel his lips at the base of my spine, on my ass. His tongue flicks out against my skin, his teeth scrape flesh.

In this moment, it’s only the two of us. No Brennan, no list, no more games. Just us raging against each other, drowning in each other.

I have no idea how long we’ve been here. Hours? Days? Weeks? My skin is coated and slick with sweat, my hair plastered to my neck and face. I now have molten lava instead of blood coursing though my veins. I try to claw my way to the surface, to reality.

As I scream, it’s Scott’s name that flies from my lips.

W
hen the three
of us finally come back to ourselves, the awkward tension returns. I realize I’m naked in front of my best friend, again, and one of the most notorious party-boys in town. I mean, fuck, I’ve watched those two shitty movies he was in. Shrugging internally, I embrace it. I lean over and kiss one after the other. They both respond with enthusiasm, though Scott is a little reticent.

I scurry from the bed, searching for my clothes.

Brennan props himself up on his elbow, pointing to a door at the back of his bedroom. “Bathroom’s in there if you want to freshen up.”

I smile and flee, clutching my crumpled clothes across my chest. I clean myself as best I can without taking an actual shower and splash water on my face. I run my fingers through my hair, trying to smooth out the snarls and tangles. To try and look like I just didn’t get fucked almost every possible way there is to fuck someone. Like I didn’t just have countless orgasms given from two separate men.

I look into the mirror and jump at the strange look on my face. My cheeks are flushed and my eyes are limpid yet sparkling with satisfaction. My lips are plump and swollen dark red. And I have a couple hickeys in thankfully easily hidden spots along my body.

I slide my dress back on over my head, fighting for several minutes with the zipper, not wanting to go back out there without some armor on. I slip my feet into my shoes and check myself out again.

I’m still a mess, but good enough to go back out in public. The dress actually held up okay to being tossed on the floor. My thong is drenched, so I shove it into my purse. I huff a laugh as I remember doing the same thing not so long ago.

Once I’m decent, I can’t put it off anymore and Scott is probably more than ready to go. I return to the bedroom. Brennan is still naked on the bed, apparently doing his best to make Scott uncomfortable. Scott’s already dressed back in his Hiddleston suit, looking way too good for someone who just fucked me senseless. Several times.

I grab my purse from the floor which is still brimming with unused condoms. A fact I find strangely hilarious in this moment.

“You ready to go?” I ask Scott.

He nods with extreme enthusiasm and relief evident all over his face.

Brennan rises languidly from the bed, walking over to me and taking me into his arms for a final kiss. And not a swift, innocent one. It’s filled with rakish confidence and almost makes me want to rip my dress off and have the three of us go one more time.

But my battered pussy will not be able to handle anymore. Probably not for days. And I’m pretty sure all of Scott’s horniness has worn off based on the expression I saw on his face, and no way am I staying without him.

Scott breaks our kiss with a loud sigh and I pull away from Brennan with reluctance and turn to Scott. I pull him into a final kiss as well, wanting his taste on my lips. It may be my last chance and I want it one last time. He’s hungry and harsh as he returns the kiss, his fingers digging into my flesh with an almost bruising strength, almost like he’s desperate for this one last time as much as I am. Like he wants to memorize my taste and feel. My nipples pucker and my aching pussy contracts when his tongue sweeps into my mouth. He literally makes my fucking knees weak with his clever mouth.

He ends our kiss with a groan, physically setting me back away from him. I watch him swallow hard and force his voice to come out calm and soft. “Time to go, love.”

I bring trembling fingers up to my lips, staring at him, searching his eyes, his expression for something. I don’t know what exactly I’m looking for, but I know I don’t find whatever that is. His expression is shuttered, closed off from me.

I shove away the strange ache it causes, and turn to Brennan with no idea what in the hell I’m supposed to say. Thanks for a good time? Hope to see you again? Thanks for the orgasms? For helping me cross off a fantasy?

Thankfully, he has no problem finding words. He grins wide, standing there in all his naked glory. “You two are welcome back anytime. Your names will be permanently on the list to get into Indigo. And any time you want a repeat, just let me know. You two are a gorgeous couple.”

I start to explain, but figure it’ll make the situation worse. “Thanks. We might just take you up on that.”

Scott nods at him and ushers me towards the door. I throw Brennan one last wave.

With our goodbyes said, we make our way back to the club where the party still rages and champagne still flows and music still pulses. At last we’re outside into the fresh air. I take deep gulps of the night breeze, turning my face up to the moon and stars twinkling down at us.

Scott unearths the valet stub, and we wait in silence, lost in our own thoughts for the valet to bring back his car. Scott holds the door open for me to slide inside, then jogs over to his side, sinking onto his seat without a word, and pulling away from the glittering world behind us.

Unable to bear the silence anymore, I bounce in the passenger seat. “That was fucking awesome!” I’m exhilarated, high on an amazing night, feeling utterly sated and just the tiniest bit sore from the bounce.

Scott nods, his expression hidden in shadows. “Yeah.”

“Wanna come over for another drink? I sweated my buzz out. If you stay long enough, we can go get brunch. Though I guess you don’t need a recap this time.” I laugh, running through the night in my head like a beloved movie.

“No. I’m just gonna drop you off.” His voice sounds weird. Like he’s pissed. Maybe he’s just tired. He did work pretty hard tonight after all. I grin in remembrance.

“But we should celebrate. It’s a twofer on the list.” I push his shoulder playfully, trying to tease out amusement, fun, any sort of reaction I expect after what we just did.

Scott leans away from me, like my touch offends him. Or disgusts him. “Fuck the list. I’m not helping you anymore.”

“What?” I’m too shocked to be embarrassed at the shrill note in my voice.

He doesn’t reply for several long minutes and I’m too upset and confused to push him.

He finally speaks again once he pulls up to front of my house. “I’m out.”

I don’t know what to say, I just sit there, staring at him with a gaping mouth. He doesn’t look at me or say anything else. He just sits there waiting for me to leave with his jaw clenched shut, the muscles in his face pulsing with anger.

I get out and slam the door, staring after him as he screeches off in bewilderment. Then, it hits me. He found his hard line. A threesome with another dude is too adventurous for him, too far. Most guys, when they imagine a threesome, imagine it with two girls. Why are we supposed to be okay with that and they can’t be okay with there being two guys? It’s such fucking bullshit. If he didn’t want to do it, all he had to say was no. He could have bowed out and I could’ve gone up to Brennan’s suite alone.

And he definitely hadn’t made any complaints while he was fucking me or had his cock in my mouth or had his mouth attached to my pussy. Maybe that’s what was bothering him too. He’d found it hot as hell and now it was bothering since lust no longer clouded his mind. Now he realized he’d been naked with another dude.

Too many dicks in too small a space. And I probably didn’t help when I took both of them in my mouth. And though I was a little busy being swamped with pleasure at the time, I’m still pretty certain they did a little touching of their own.

He’ll get over it all. He just needs time to sort himself out. He’ll come around and realize it was a hot as fuck night.

And if not, well, fine then. I’ll move on to the next adventure by myself.

I
dress
in my work uniform, sighing over the significant lack of sexy. The baristas are forced to wear a boring black collared shirt, khaki bottoms, and a red apron. I pick my favorite pair of khaki pants that hug my ass with perfection. Not much I can do with the shirt other than wear the one I accidentally shrank in the wash that's now two sizes too small. It shows flashes of my belly and is super tight without being completely inappropriate. Especially with the apron covering it.

Since I only really work two or three shifts a week, if my last item on my fuckit list backfires right in my face and totally fails, it's no big deal. I can always go find another job at a different coffee shop, or hostess at a restaurant, or even honestly just not work the last few weeks of school. I have enough saved up to live on. Barely, but enough.

Graduation is imminent and so is my career--my internship will run for most of the summer and will pay me a small stipend. I don't have much time left to complete the fuckit list. And I am determined to finish it. I'm so damn close.

The normal vanilla rest of my life is about to start.

The thought fills me with excitement and a tinge of sadness. I've really fucking enjoyed this insane adventure, and a part of me is sad to see it end. A part of me isn't sure how I'm going to go back to a boring sex life. Or a non-existent one. With my internship, I won't have a whole lot of time for dating and getting to know some new guy. The rigidity of my looming adulthood are starting to depress me, to strangle me.

The biggest thing I've learned through this whole thing, is there are a lot of men out there who actually know how to use their cocks for a woman's pleasure, and not simply a race toward their own finish line. And aren't afraid to try new and thrilling things. Not all men are Adams. Now I know what signs to look for and if I ever meet a guy and those warning bells go off, I will run screaming in the other direction.

Who knows? Maybe once the list is over, and Scott has gotten over his temper tantrum, we can be occasional fuck buddies. Honestly, I’d really like that. I think about it probably more than I should.

I get extra cute for my shift, going heavy on the eyeliner and mascara, slathering myself with my favorite honeysuckle lotion. Walking back through my plot for seducing my boss, I start to feel those familiar tendrils of exhilaration and nerves. I can't imagine it not working. We'll both be alone when we close up on the last shift. I'm hot, and have glorious breasts, according to everyone I’ve encountered on this journey. He isn't married anymore or even dating as far as I know. And our age difference isn't that extreme. I'm about to graduate college, so it's not like I'm illegal or anything. And he's in that good age between thirty-five and forty. He's older, but not gross old.

I really think late thirties is the peak of men's hotness. The sweet spot. Hello, Benedict Cumberbatch, Michal Fassbender, Joel McHale, Tom Hiddleston.

Men that age are experienced and well-seasoned. Maybe greying at the temples, but no health problems or creep-factor. I won't have to worry about him having a stroke or heart attack while we fuck.

I blow out a frustrated breath after I coat my lips with cherry gloss. If only Scott was here to talk me up. I'm still super pissed he stormed off like that. Especially after such an amazing fucking night. But I still miss him. Like a lot. Is this what phantom leg syndrome feels like? It feels like I'm missing a vital part of me. A part I didn't realize quite how important it was until it was gone.

This entire week since I saw him last, I've gotten myself off to him. A lot. Not to my other conquests or even future adventures.

Just. Him.

My memories of the things we've done together. Fantasies of what we still could do together. Thinking of his mouth against my pussy. Thinking of his massive cock stretching me. Thinking of his fingers in my ass. Thinking of his hands on my tits. Thinking of my mouth wrapped around his dick. Thinking of the countless orgasms he gave me.

Feeling my nipples pucker at the reminder, I shake off thoughts and frustrations over my jerk best friend, and finish getting ready. My mind and emotions are all over the place without him around. Especially after our night with Brennan. It's gotten me all wound up and confused and frankly, super fucking horny every time I remember it, think about it.

I'm starting to think he ghosted on me because things have gotten tense between us since we added all this sex to our friendship. Mind-blowing sex, but it's put awkward areas in our friendship. Has it made him think of and view me differently? Did he need a break so we'd have a chance to get back to normal? Should I have kept him out of this whole thing? It's been a constant worry in my mind that I haven't been able to shake almost from the beginning. And now it looks like I should have paid attention to all those fears.

I don't know anymore. All I know is I'm finishing it. All I know is I miss him.

And I hate that it's bothering me so much. We've had fights before and taken breaks from each other. It's no bigger deal this time than it was any of the other times. He'll be back eventually. And things will get back to normal. We've been through way too much together for it all to end now.

I give a final pat to my hair before I shove my makeup back into the drawers. I need to go or I'm going to be late, and that won't win me any favors with my boss. I'm trying to seduce him, not piss him off.

My phone flashes to life, vibrating against the bathroom counter. Scott's grin fills the screen. My chest lurches with a twinge of pain and longing. It's like he heard my thoughts, felt me missing him.

What the hell, man? He hasn't spoken to me in an entire freaking week, and now he wants to call while I'm getting ready to leave? Fuck it. Fuck him. This isn't the time.

I reach out with a trembling finger and press the decline button.

I'm off to get laid. I don't have the time or patience to get into it with him right now.