The F#ck It List: The Complete Story (8 page)

T
he stranger gives me a slow
, seductive smile with bourbon still on his lips, and pays the tab before leading me towards the door. I wink over at Scott right before we leave and he doesn't look happy. I shake off the frustration over his attitude. Jerk.

I can’t let the nagging feeling of wanting our friendship back to normal stop me from enjoying ticking this box on my list.

The stranger leads me over to his...it's a quick Uber. Shit. When you Uber--the person who requests the ride puts in the address. Scott may have been partially right. This is going to be a damn hassle when I leave. It'll be rather awkward to ask him his address so I can order one to take me home. And a bit expensive.

But right now, I don't care. Right now, I want to come, and this sexy bourbon-eyed, bourbon-flavored man is going to get me there. Hopefully more than once.

The ride is mostly silent, but the air is charged with electricity and tension. I "accidentally" graze his leg with mine again. He gives me his knowing smile again. I adjust my position so my dress hikes up a little farther on my legs, barely covering my panties, rejoicing when I see his nostrils flare in response. My entire body tingles with anticipation and the slightest hint of nervousness.

With each item on my fuckit list, I've done something a little crazier. Granted, this was only the second if you don't count fucking my best friend. Who knew buried underneath my prim and proper behavior, this side of me was lying dormant inside.

The Uber stops in front of a really nice apartment building. No way can he afford something like this if he was an unknown artist. I shove away the continued curiosity of who he really is, and take the hand he holds out for me as he helps me to my feet.

He doesn't release my hand until we're inside his place. He gestures to his couch. "Make yourself at home. Wine?"

I sink into the plush black leather. "I'd love some. Thanks."

He disappears into the kitchen, and I try to calm my racing pulse. This is exactly what I wanted. And it had worked! I couldn't believe how easy it had been.

He returns and sits beside me, handing me a wineglass.

"Thank you."

"I need to tell you a truth now."

"Okay." The word is drawn out, revealing my growing anxiety.

He stares steadily into my eyes. "I'm into kink."

My breath catches and my eyes widen. "I see."

"I need you to tell me another truth. Have you ever tried BDSM? Are you into it?"

I sip at the wine, flushing as I remember myself bent over Professor Roux's desk. "I've been spanked, but that's it. I've never experienced anything else."

"Did you enjoy it?" he asks, but like he already knows the answer.

I purse my lips, a little uncomfortable with talking about it like this with a stranger. "I did."

"What do you know about the lifestyle?"

I shrug. "Just what I've read in novels."

His lips twist. "Those aren't exactly the most realistic portrayals."

"Okay."

"Are you interested in experimenting? I'll go gently since you aren't experienced."

I postpone my answer by taking another sip of wine. I'm not sure, but I've come this far. "I am. I think."

He nods, a little business-like. "Choose a safe-word. That way if you are in pain or want to stop, use it and I will stop immediately."

My brow wrinkles in thought. "Uh...pineapple?"

He smiles. "Excellent." He takes my wine from me and sets it on the coffee table. "One more truth." He leans close until only a whisper separates us. "I've wanted to taste you all night."

I smile back at him, anxious to see if he tastes the way he looks. Like bourbon. Like sex. "Me too."

He slides along the couch, moving with slow and careful movements like he's worried I'll bolt, like I'm a wild thing he's trying to tame. I'm not sure he's wrong. My heart's trying to pound out of my chest, and I drank way too much bourbon because my head won't stop spinning.

He cups my jaw in his palm and presses his lips to mine. His taste is exactly what I thought it would be. I light on fire from his touch, flames flickering over my skin. I shiver and press my body into his. His mouth grows harsher and possessive in response to my whimper. His hands move to grip my upper arms and dig into my skin with almost bruising strength.

He pulls away. "Until you use your safe-word or I release you, you are mine to command. You will obey me and not question my commands. If you don't, you will be punished. I won't hurt you, but there are many ways to punish you without pain."

I'm so worked up, I'll agree to anything at this point. "Okay."

He glares at me. "You will refer to me as "Sir.""

I nod. "Yes, sir."

"Good girl. One of the ways I might decide to punish you, is not allowing you to come. If you continue to disobey, I won't fuck you. And I know you want to be fucked." He slides his hand up my dress and rubs my pussy through my thong. "You're already so wet and ready for me to take you. Do you want me to fuck you?"

"Yes, sir." I'm breathless with lust.

"And I will. As long as you are a good girl, I will fuck you as much as you can handle. And then I'll fuck you again."

My fingers flex against his hard chest, my nails scraping at his shirt. He reaches around to my back and slides the zipper of my dress down, peeling the fabric from me, revealing my bare breasts. He leans back from me in order to admire them. My eyelids are heavy with desire and my chest heaves with shortened breaths, making my tits jiggle. He palms them, his skin warm.

"They're beautiful."

So I've been told. By everyone who’s seen them
except
Adam.

My back arches as he thumbs my nipples and a moan falls from my lips. He captures the noise with his mouth, pressing me back into the couch, covering his body with mine, never releasing my tits or my mouth.

The leather is cold on my back, making me shiver and press closer to his warmth. He kisses down my neck, down and down and down to my breasts, replacing his hands with his hot mouth. He sucks my nipples hard, and I gasp, clutching tighter to his back. He rises and peels the rest of my dress off until I'm clad in nothing but my stilettos and my black, lacy thong.

He growls at the sight of me, tossing my dress to the floor. I stare up at him, my pulse skittering, wondering what comes next.

He doesn't make me wait long to find out. He opens the drawer of the table beside the couch and pulls out some sort of small chain and what looks like a cross between a cat toy and a feather duster. It has a long thin black handle with bright red feathers at one end and the head of a crop at the other.

My chest tightens in response, my eyes wide.

"Trust me. It will give you pleasure and if it does not, use your safe-word. It's called feather-play and will heighten all your senses."

I nod, eyes still trying to understand what my body will feel.

He shoves the chain into his pocket. "Close your eyes. Keep them closed until I give you permission to open them."

"Yes, sir." After one last desperate glance, I do.

Nothing happens for several long moments, the pressure building inside me even though nothing but the air in the room touches my naked flesh.

At last, the slightest brush of the feathers slides down one of my arms. I jerk and tremble, squeezing my eyes shut hard so I don't give into the temptation to peek. The feathers leave my arm and trail across my collar bones, then down through the valley of my breasts and he draws circles around my belly. I squirm, wanting contact on my nipples, but he ignores me. He turns his attention to my legs, teasing the back of my knees, the inside of my thighs.

Goosebumps follow in the wake of the feathers, rising along the path. I grip the fabric of the couch beneath me and bite my bottom lip to keep from crying out. My pussy is drenched and my nipples are pebbled, begging to be touched. I want him to fuck me. I'll do anything if he'll just fuck me.

Instead, he continues the strange torture. The feathers touch every inch of me except for the parts that ache for it most.

"Please, sir."

"Please, what?"

"I don't know. Anything. Fuck me, touch me. Just please, sir." I barely remember to tack on the "sir" at the end.

"Keep your eyes closed." Pleasure and pride makes his voice gruff. He likes it that I begged.

I hear the tinkling of metal, and almost open my eyes.

Cool metal trails up my belly making me shiver. Partly from the chill, partly from anticipation.

"This will hurt just a little, but it will add to the sensations. If it hurts too much tell me, it's supposed to mostly just feel like a strong pressure."

Something hard clamps onto one of my nipples and it tightens, sending fissures of pain zooming through me. I barely hold back a scream. But the pain morphs, it isn't as sharp, it's actually rather pleasant. It's unrelenting, the constant pressure. He clamps my other nipple, but I'm more prepared this time. I whimper, but the pressure returns quickly after the first flash of pain.

It’s like no other sensation I’ve ever experienced..

But it's not enough. I'm so close. So. Close. Why won't he just fuck me?

He slides off my thong and adjusts my position on the couch, spreading me wide by propping one of my feet against the back of the couch and the other on the cushion underneath me. I give a passing worry to my sharp heels puncturing the fabric, but if he doesn't care, neither do I.

Maybe now he's finally going to fuck me.

Instead he uses the feather again. Up and down my legs, along my neck and ears, then teasing over my aching nipples. The different sensations drive me wild until I'm almost thrashing, tilting my pelvis, my core desperate for contact.

He brings the feathers back to my thighs, with each brush getting closer and closer to my pussy. It's been so long. I just want to come. Tears prick at my closed eyes and the sounds coming from my mouth would be embarrassing if I wasn't so horny and desperate.

And if I didn't know he was loving it.

He yanks a little on the chain between my tits, sending small shots of heat through my body while he continues his torture with the feather.

My body shakes uncontrollably. He yanks again and I can't hold back the scream this time. "Please, sir."

"Oh, beautiful girl. We've barely begun." His tone carries a dark threat.

I don't know whether to be dismayed or thrilled at his words. All I know is I will do whatever he wants me to. If he will just fuck me, dammit.

His lips press against mine, plundering my mouth. His shirt pulls at the clamps on my nipples, bringing me even closer to the edge. I've never come without any sort of clit stimulation, but if he keeps this up, I'm convinced I'll have my first time.

He raises up away from me, making the chain sing and finally, finally, finally, the feathers glide over the lips of my pussy. I open my legs wider, wanting him to have as much access as my joints will allow.

He slides them all the way down to the crack of my ass. I tremble and tense my body to try and stay still. I mutter curses. The feathers are so light, they do nothing other than tease, and make it worse.

"Open your eyes."

I do, blinking them against the lights. The stranger is seated on the coffee table beside me. "Look at yourself."

I frown, but obey. I'm open wide and my nipples are clamped, the chain twinkling from the table lamp's light. My breaths are short and fast, making the clamps pull.

I look back at him and he smiles darkly. "Open your legs wider."

I don't know if I can, but I try. My legs spread a little farther until my lips are open, revealing my glistening clit. He stands and stares down at me, the feather whip thing at attention in his hand. He takes a couple steps away from me until he's by my legs and then he turns to face me, his eyes zeroed in on my center.

I watch as he trails the feathers back down my body. He starts at my neck, then trails them across my clamped nipples, dips them into my belly button, then slides them over my mound and down one of my thighs. He slides it up my other thigh and then through my wide open cunt. I can see the moisture make the feathers damp.

"You are so wet and gorgeous."

I whimper. "Please, sir."

"What do you want?"

"Please make me come, sir."

"Yank at the chain."

"Yes, sir." I lift a shaking hand to grasp the chain and pluck at it, gasping at the shards of pleasure it causes. I pluck harder, the only real pressure I've gotten all night. I cry out.

He lifts the feathers and spins it so the crop part is on top.

And brings it down directly on my clit with a sharp slap.

I scream and shatter and buck and gasp. The climax is short, but strong, burning through me like fire. The room spins and the tips of my fingers go numb from how tightly I clench my hands into fists.

Before I've caught my breath, he removes the clamps, rubbing my sore nubs with gentle fingers, which brings another rush of heated pleasure. He tosses them and the feathers on the coffee table before helping me up. My limbs are heavy and I'm having a hard time moving on my own.

I slump against the couch, tremors still twitching through me. He hands me my glass of wine and I take a gulp, hoping to steady myself.

"Well? Would you like to go farther?"

I
clear
my throat and don't answer right away. It was weird, but incredibly pleasurable even while it was frustrating. I guess maybe I
am
into certain aspects, but not necessarily pain. Especially the extreme kind like I've seen on the internet. Spanking and clamps and rough sex are one thing, but I'm not interested in being bound until I lose circulation and whipped until I bleed.

However, what we’ve done so far? Amazing.

I'm still so turned on. One orgasm wasn't enough. Especially without his cock inside me. I drain my glass. "I want to keep going. Sir."

"Good answer." He takes my hand and helps me to my feet. I still have on my stilettos. I barely take in anything of the rest of his home, so focused on my anxiety and excitement of what he's going to do next.

He opens a door at the end of the hall and nudges me inside. It's his bedroom. At least he didn't bring me to a dungeon. I bite back a hysterical giggle. There is a massive bed covered by a maroon duvet in the middle of the room with two brown wooden nightstands at the sides. A matching brown dresser stands in the corner and I wonder if it holds implements of sexual torture or clothes.

Maybe both.

He grabs me by the back of the neck and jerks me into a kiss. I fall against him, but he steadies me. His other hand runs down my spine and cups my ass, kneading at the flesh. I push my pelvis into his and moan when my still sore nipples rub against the buttons of his shirt.

He walks me farther into the room backwards, still kissing me. His hands move to my waist and suddenly, he throws me onto the bed. I squeak in surprise as I bounce on the mattress. He follows me, shoving me up to the headboard. Once my head is lying on his plush pillows, he reaches behind me and pulls out leather cuffs that are chained to the bed.

He snaps them around my wrists. A brief twinge of fear skitters through me, but his kiss calms away the worry. This is hot. This is something I've wanted to try. Just like the clamps. And that had been quite enjoyable.

He kisses, nibbles, and licks down my body until he reaches my core. He spreads my legs and laps at my pussy. He starts off gentle and teasing, working me up into a frenzy. I yank at the cuffs and toss my head back.

He plunges his tongue into my cunt, fucking me with his tongue. He swirls it around inside me. I gasp and twist my hands around to grasp the chains of the cuffs.

He pulls out and returns his attention to my clit, no longer teasing. Now, he licks and nibbles like he means it. I'm still so sensitive from the last orgasm, it takes no time for another to build.

I cannot believe I lived so long without this.

His hands reach up and pinch my nipples as he flicks his tongue against my center.

I fly apart, molten lava rolling through me, waves of red crashing over me. "Fuck."

He looms over me and releases me from the cuffs and gets off the bed. While I recover, I watch him unbutton his deep plum shirt, revealing a lean, tan torso. He steps out of his shoes, never taking his eyes off me.

I almost salivate, wanting him inside me more than anything.

"You want me to fuck you?"

I nod, mutely.

"Crawl over to me."

I jerk with surprise, but find myself sliding off the bed, down to my hands and knees. He falls back towards his door, his hands hovering over the button of his pants.

In utter disbelief, I start to crawl to him. My breasts are heavy and sway with each inch. I can't believe I'm doing this. Something I'd usually find humiliating, but tonight it's empowering. The way he stares at me makes me feel sexy and powerful.

And I really, really want his cock buried inside me.

I make it all the way across the room to him, but remain on my hands and knees at his feet. Will he take me right here, fuck me from behind? I shiver with longing at the thought.

"Kneel and put your hands behind your back and keep your shoulders back and those gorgeous tits out."

"Yes, sir." I crawl to my knees and get into the position.

"Good girl. This is a classic submissive position."

He slides his pants down so they pool around his ankles and steps from them. My gaze slides up his legs until I see he was going commando under his slacks. His cock is long and hard.

I can’t wait to taste it.

He rubs his hand over it. "Do you want this?"

"Yes, sir."

"Beg for it."

"Please, sir. Please, fuck me. Fuck me hard with your big cock. Fuck me until I scream. Please. I want you inside me, sir."

"Beg me to tie you back up."

"Please, sir, tie me back up and use me for your pleasure. Do whatever you want to me, just please, fuck me."

"Did you like being tied up? Helpless? At my mercy?"

"Yes, sir. I loved it. Please do it again. Please, sir." I cannot believe I am begging like this. I cannot believe I don't care that I'm begging like this.

He bends down and yanks me to my feet, burying his face in my neck, nipping at my skin with his teeth. My legs almost give out beneath me. He spins me around so his cock is pressed against my ass, his mouth till teasing my neck. One of his hands grabs at my tit, kneading and squeezing and the other travels down to my pussy and dips into my center. He plunges his fingers deep inside me, pumping them in and out. My head falls back on his shoulder and I press against his hand.

Somehow, we end up back on the bed and the cuffs are locked back on my wrists. I'm so lost in sensation, I'm barely aware of where I am. The only thing I'm aware of is what he does to me.

He ravages my breasts, his cock nudging my entrance, making me spread my legs wider, hoping to tempt him to finally slam himself deep inside me.

But instead, he raises his pelvis, pulling away from me. I growl in frustration. He chuckles against the tender skin of my breasts. Which makes me even more grumpy. The jackass made me beg for it and he's still teasing. I might prefer the sting of a whip to this.

Those thoughts flee from my head once his mouth attaches to one of my nipples. I cry out with pleasure, his touch shooting down to my core.

Lifting away from me, he reaches over to the nightstand, pulling a foil wrapper from the drawer. He sheaths his member with it and I sigh in relief. Finally.

He brings my knees up to my chest until I'm completely folded in half.

And at last, he slides into me. So deep, my eyes pop wide and my breath stalls.

He moves languorously at first, letting me feel every inch of him. He reaches so deep it almost hurts. His body stretches along mine as he grabs the headboard.

And then he really begins to fuck me. He slams into me over and over until his bedroom spins behind my closed eyes. My knees are still pressed to my chest, the weight of his torso keeping them there, so he can reach deeper.

Ramming into me with no mercy, his rhythm hits with perfect pressure in all the perfect places. I hover on the brink of madness, my moans singing out in a staccato as he plays me like I'm his favorite instrument.

Our sweat-slick bodies slide together, our pants and gasps join together in chorus.

And with a final pierce into me, the crescendo breaks. My belly and cunt contract, the chains from the cuffs jingling from how hard I buck against him. He continues plunging into me, drawing out the climax with each stroke of his cock. My muscles tense and I'm unable to utter more than a breathy whimper.

He releases my legs which I wrap around his waist, not wanting him to stop. He seems perfectly willing to oblige, his pace quickening as the trembling finally fades from my body.

"Look at me." His voice has a tone in it I'm unable to ignore or disobey.

I open my eyes and meet his. I drown in a sea of bourbon, bobbing and drifting beneath him.

My hands tingle from being tied up so long, adding to the myriad of sensations racing over me. He releases his hold on the headboard and runs his hands down the sides of my body, slipping them under me to cup my ass. He tilts me up and hits a new spot within me. I cry out and tighten my legs around him. He pummels me in response, driving me higher, higher, higher.

I float and spin, unable to come back down to Earth. Everything inside me tenses and races with heat, but I can't make it to the other side. My head thrashes and I make almost animal noises. It feels amazing, but I'm desperate for release. I've never experienced anything like this, this hovering on the edge, lost in need and desire.

The stranger's fingers dig harshly into the flesh of my ass, and I reach the edge. I leap off it, screaming and yelling intelligible words. The strength of the bucks and jerks I can't control almost knock him away from me. My throat is sore and my pussy aches from the orgasms he's forced from me.

I have no idea if he's come or not, and in the moment I don't really care. I'm more concerned with getting my limbs working again. My legs are locked around him and I don't have the strength to lift them away. He grins down at me and forces my legs down and pulls out of me, collapsing on the bed beside me, panting.

I guess he did come at some point.

I'd feel bad for missing it, but with the afterglow of the most amazing orgasm of my life still rippling through me, all I can think is...AGAIN.

Ever since my night with Scott, one orgasm isn't enough. I'm insatiable and greedy. Only getting one orgasm is for the old me. I thrust away the pang at the thought of Scott. He has no room here, tonight, with this bourbon stranger. We'll get past this fight and things will go back to normal.

The stranger turns over on his side, running his fingers down the valley between my breasts. My nipples perk up immediately in response. He hums approval before sliding his hands down to my legs, massaging the stiffness from them. I groan as feeling returns to my muscles.

He flips me over on my belly, my arms and chains twisting with the movement, but he ignores it. He rubs the back of my calves with strong fingers, digging deep into the flesh. I can't see him with my face buried in the pillows, but I can feel him kneeling between my legs. He continues kneading his way up my legs, paying close attention to the crevice between my thigh and the bottom of my ass. His fingers brush against my pussy and I shudder, opening my thighs, hoping he takes the hint.

He doesn't.

He moves to my ass, clenching my globes in his hands. He slides a finger through the crack, teasing my back hole. I lift my hips and he plunges a finger inside, crooking his finger. I suck in a sharp breath. He uses one of his hands to spread my cheeks while he uses the other to finger-fuck my ass. Every time someone does this, I fall in love with it even more. I can't wait to take it further.

But I'm not sure I can take it tonight. And I'm not sure I want my first time to be a literal stranger.

Either way, I'm pretty sure I won't get to dither about it. Not during a night exploring my submission. It's been surprisingly nice giving up control even while it's been a bit frustrating. I don't love orgasm denial, but maybe I should keep a more open mind based on the strength of the climaxes I've had tonight. But my pleasure and his has been his responsibility. All I've had to do is remain tied up and take it. Enjoy it. Revel in it. Obey. And with the safe-word ever hovering in my mind, it's really me who has all the control.

And that makes me feel powerful.

He removes his fingers and resumes massaging my ass, digging his fingers into my skin until I ease back into the mattress. His touch is magic, turning me pliant and boneless under his ministrations.

He brushes against my cunt again and I tense back up. He keeps sliding his fingers through my slit, using more pressure with each stroke, I force myself to remain still, worried he'll stop if I move.

"Good girl. You're learning."

I smile into the pillow. He dips shallowly into my core, swirling his finger around the rim. It gets harder to stay still and pressed into the bed. He slips easily around me, my pussy soaked with wanting.

He seems determined to make me even wetter.

Moving his hands to my waist, he jerks me up onto my knees. My face presses further into the pillows making it difficult to breathe. I hear him rustling in his nightstand and the crackle of foil.

His hand returns to me and slides through my wet pussy until he reaches my clit. He flicks the nub with his thumb and then pinches it, sending zings of heat shooting through me. I gasp and raise my ass. With gentle yet firm strikes, he rains down spanks right on my clit. It doesn't really hurt and it isn't as harsh as the one he gave me on the couch. I mewl into the pillow, my thighs starting to tremble. Soothing the spanks away, he starts to rub furiously. Warmth builds, spreading from my pussy to my ass and belly, down my legs. The climax races toward me fast and strong.

He removes his hand.

The jerk.

I buck against nothing but air, the heat and ardor cooling and fading away. Thankfully, the pillows muffle my grievances. I hope.

The warmth from his body presses against me, and his cock nudges my entrance. Instead of shoving into me, he only inserts an inch of himself and circles his hips. He slides out of me and prods into me again with shallow strokes. And he keeps fucking me like that, never going in deeper than an inch, the head of his long cock the only thing he allows inside me. It keeps me in a desperate frenzy, but takes me no further.

The grasp of his fingers on my hips are harsh, digging into my skin. I fight against the need and desire to shove myself back on him, forcing myself to take it. I have to trust he'll get me there. I asked for this, I agreed to this.

I begged for this.

And if I'm honest, I'm loving this.

He yanks my ass up even higher so that my knees are barely anchored against the bed, my torso rising along with it even as my face presses deeper into the pillow. My nipples brush against the duvet, still the slightest bit sore from the clamps and his teeth.

Still not letting up on the shallow dips into my core, he starts sliding up my cleft before plunging back into my cunt.

I turned my face to the side, taking much needed clean breaths. "Please, sir."