The FBucket List

by Lena Fox

  I took the rest of the drink down in long steady gulps. I pivoted on the stool to observe the other people in the club, a little calmer this time.

  A guy with curly hair and a thin black tie looked at me. He saw me catch him, held my gaze, and smiled.

  This is it. Just go for it.

  My belly tightened with fear, then I did it. I slammed down the rest of my drink, got off the bar stool, walked straight over, and kissed him.

  I expected him to freak out but instead he kissed me back, hard and rough. Everything spun away from me—the lump, the terror I felt, death and the emptiness beyond it. It all vanished.

  I was alive right then. I could feel that, feel life running through my veins. It was as vital and hot as his tongue beside mine.

  I knew then that I’d do anything to have this feeling again, and again. I wanted to feel alive until the very moment of my death.

  Chapter Twelve

  Georgina

  “Georgie?” Blake’s hand on my arm brought me out of my reverie. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m great.” I shut the tears from my eyes with one hard blink. I locked my invisible armor back on. “Do you want to do this or not?”

  Blake’s gaze searched my face, as though he could see that armor, as though trying to find chinks. Something changed in his expression, concern shifting to blankness with just the hint of a smirk. “I just want to know this isn’t getting complicated.”

  “If you want out, that’s fine, but I’m completing my list no matter what,” I said, yanking my helmet on over my head.

  With a shrug, he joined me at the bike, climbing on and putting his helmet on too. “Let’s get kinky then.”

  I hopped on the back behind him. “Now, what do we need for this … bondage stuff?”

  He just patted me on the knee, and we were off.

  It was after dark when we pulled into the parking lot of the strip mall, and I stared at the building. The exterior was dirty-white and hot-pink. A neon sign overhead announced it as “your premiere destination for excitement!”

  From the outside, it didn’t look very exciting. Only one car, plus Blake’s bike, sat in the lot, and there were no X-rated signs or anything. I was a little disappointed. It looked like any other storefront—not at all what I had expected.

  I got off the bike and removed my helmet, shooting an uneasy glance at the street that ran past, but there was no traffic at all, not a single car on the long gray ribbon of four lane.

  Once inside the shop, I didn’t know which way to look. No matter where I turned my head, something lurid assaulted my eyes—racks full of videos, magazines, and a whole section of things that looked more like strange, bright-colored kid’s toys than something used for sex. On another wall, there was a dildo as long and thick as my forearm. Surely that was just for display. Nobody could use that. Could they? How? Could I? I started picturing how big Blake was, trying to compare, and heat rushed up my cheeks and down my belly.

  The surprisingly cheery and gorgeous girl with pink hair behind the counter gave me a nod. I retreated, half-afraid that she would open a cabinet, pull out one of those huge fleshy vibrators, and start her sales pitch. Or offer to give me a test ride.

  I turned to find Blake and freaked out when he wasn’t next to me anymore.

  I heard him call out, “Why, hello there, pretty eyes.”

  Blake was behind a life-sized, realistic sex doll, puppetting her arm so she blew kisses at me. Her hair was a platinum blond, her lips, opened in a pucker I was sure was meant to be cute, were painted a scarlet red, and her legs were open to show the advertised ‘smooth, tight tunnel of love!’ nestled there.

  “Quit mucking around. Can we just hurry up?”

  Blake stepped away from the embodiment of uncanny valley, and I scooted over beside him. The shop was tightly packed with narrow aisles, and I almost knocked down a display of flavored condoms. I was already in panic mode, the little time bomb inside me ticking away audibly. The sheer overwhelm of this shop wasn’t helping.

  “Do we really need to be here?”

  “You want to do this bondage thing. I thought you’d want some supplies.” Blake shrugged.

  I just want to get it done. Only I wasn’t entirely sure how.

  He seemed to know where he was going when he led me to some shelves that held all sorts of crazy-looking contraptions. There was brightly colored bondage tape—guaranteed not to leave marks or stick to hair, which was a relief, I supposed— bottles of heating lube, packages of silk rope in various colors, and handcuffs lined with hot pink feathers or fur. Those looked ridiculous, really, like a joke toy.

  I wanted something real.

  A little farther along that row, things shifted from colorful to black-leather serious. Straps, gags, masks, harnesses—I didn’t know if these were what I’d imagined when I added bondage to The List, but I had to get something and get out of here.

  “Just what kind of bondage are you thinking? Just a bit of blindfold fun or getting more into S&M territory? Because these floggers are pretty good.” Blake pointed. They dangled from hooks, their colorful tails swinging as I reached out and touched them.

  “You know this, how?”

  Blake half-smiled. “I had a girl once who was really into this stuff. A little too into it for me, to be honest. I drew the line at some of the things she wanted to do so we stopped hooking up.”

  Jealousy erupted in my heart. Blake had already done this with someone else?

  I knew I was being irrational. He was gorgeous, and he’d already said he was experienced. I wasn’t his girlfriend, and I didn’t want to be. I didn’t have time to be.

  Urgency drove me onwards and I grabbed one of the small, flail-like whips. I didn’t really want to try it. I guessed I had just been imagining some “blindfold fun”, as Blake had put it. Probably extremely lame to a seasoned fetishist.

  Blake smiled. “Nice choice. That one is leather; they give a nice thud. Those cheap ones over there are plastic. They’ll cut if you get hit too hard.”

  I repeated my mantra of The List Georgina is Brave Georgina, but I was faltering.

  “You’re trying to freak me out on purpose, aren’t you?”

  “That depends. Is it working?”

  “No.” That lasted about three seconds. “Yes.”

  His lips went up at the corners, but he didn’t laugh. If he had, I might have kicked him in the shin and run away as fast as I could. The whole day had been awful, and I needed to get rid of that feeling that was sitting on me, that feeling that time was running out.

  I closed my eyes for a second, but there was this low steady tick-tock sound there in the darkness that terrified me. I opened my eyes again and Blake was poking around in the aisle where more of those giant dicks sat displayed in boxes. He picked up a long thick black one that looked weirdly glossy. “You know, I am a little surprised that you didn’t put sex with a black man on your list. It’s pretty high up there in some women’s fantasies.”

  I’d never wanted that cliché, but the time this was taking made me irritable. “Maybe that’s what should be next on my list.”

  I grabbed for my purse, yanked my journal out, and started to write it down. His hand came down on mine and my pen scribbled a big black line across the page.

  I slipped my small hand out of his and tried again, grinning defiantly.

  “You can’t go adding stuff in.” Blake laughed at my efforts, easily snatching the pen from my hand.

  “Says who?” I plunged my hand back into my purse to bring out one of the many other pens it held.

  Blake wrapped his arms around me from behind, grabbing both my wrists and pinning them against my body. My back pressed tight into his chest, and I could feel him chuckling silently.

  “Are we starting already?” I joked.

  “Not in the shop!” yelled the pink-haired girl at the counter.

  I wonder how often a day she yells that out.

  Blake’s breath tickled my ear wh
en he spoke. “I’ll let you go as long as you leave that off your list. For now. Look, that is a pretty long list of sexual adventures. It’s more than most people ever get around to doing. Maybe you should get through that first, then consider if you want to add something more.”

  “Fine. Spoilsport.”

  He was right though. It was a long list. I did not need to add in anything else. If I did, and didn’t get to do those added things I might regret it throughout all eternity. If that was a thing. Why take that chance? This was already taking too long.

  I stared down at my list, at the black line running across the paper. Did I really want to do all that stuff? Still?

  The answer was yes. I had to do it, and I had to do it now. There might never be another chance for me to do the items on The List, or anything else I wanted to do—like ride carnival rides all night, see Niagra falls, swim in the ocean, or have a family …

  So many things. Simple things. Things some people took for granted. Tears pricked my eyes. I wanted to live. There was so much to do and not enough time to do it in.

  “Are you okay? You look a bit off. Come on, let’s get out of here. Honestly, this place makes me a bit green in the gills too.” Blake took me by the arm and started leading me back out of the shop.

  “But we need to get some things,” I protested.

  “Don’t worry about it. We’ll improvise. It’s better that way, anyway.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Georgina

  “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Blake asked when we reached his house again.

  “If I say yes for the fiftieth time, will you believe me?” I replied. I was shaking, and tried to keep the rattle out of my voice. I hoped he couldn’t see it.

  “And you remember the safe word?”

  I was a bit worried why he thought we’d need one, but he assured me it was simply best practice for anything like this. I’d chosen the word. “Dissuade.”

  We were off the bike, and he opened the front door. It squeaked as it swung and he looked down at me, serious for a second. “I just want you to feel safe in my hands. Figuratively and literally.”

  On that last word, he switched gears so fast it threw me, rocketing my heart into full speed. He scooped me up, flinging me roughly over one shoulder like some kind of caveman, or the Viking god he would play the part of so well.

  I saw him grab something from the small table beside the front door but couldn’t tell what because I was too busy squealing. Then I was bounced about as he jogged up the stairs to his bedroom.

  I hit the mattress with a thud that matched how my heart was hammering. He was on me in an instant, grabbing my arms and hauling them up above my head. Something wrapped around my wrists, hard and rubbery, and I heard the click of a lock closing.

  I twisted my neck to turn and look. He’d cuffed me to the metal top bar of the bedhead with a bike lock.

  My hands were trapped, not an inch of give. Panic started to rise in me but then Blake’s lips pressed on mine, perfectly gentle, and my eyes fluttered closed in pleasure. His tongue forced its way into my mouth, hungry and deep. Then it was gone. When I opened my eyes, I was flushed and breathing hard, and so was he.

  “Stay there,” he said.

  “No problem,” I replied.

  He opened the door to the adjoining bathroom and casually began undressing. From my position on the bed, I could stretch my neck and pretty easily see what he was doing. He spun the shower taps, and stepped under the spray.

  My pulse raced. I felt like I should look away, but I knew he was doing this so I would watch. And oh, dear god, if it wasn’t the hottest thing I’d ever seen. Water trailed down the muscles of his back, forming shimmering rivulets. If I wasn’t shackled down I would have been in there with him, clothes and all. I strained against my bindings almost instinctually, each restrained movement of muscle seeming to ignite the lust in me even more.

  Blake returned. He stood at the foot of the bed, stark naked and hard. His hair and skin glistened with droplets of water.

  He didn’t say a word to me. He stared down, then walked away.

  I cried out in pure anguish.

  I hadn’t really known what to expect when I’d decided I wanted to mess with bondage, but I’d had no idea it would feel like this. I had never wanted someone to touch me so much, and every moment he refused, that yearning grew.

  Seconds ticked by, and I couldn’t hear anything to tell me what he was doing.

  I was stuck there, breathless in anticipation of what would come next, where he had gone, and whether he would even come back.

  But he did, and he brought what looked like the sash tie from his curtains, and wrapped it straight over my eyes before I could see more of his amazing, naked body.

  The darkness made me gasp.

  I could feel the mattress shift and the warmth of Blake’s thighs as he straddled me.

  He pushed my loose dress and bra up to my neck in one swift movement. Goose bumps spread across my breasts and to my nipples. Somehow, still having my clothes around me, but exposed like this, made me so much more vulnerable. I could feel his hands again, lifting my hips and practically tearing my leggings and panties down and away.

  He took a knee in each palm and pushed my legs apart. I squirmed, trying to close them. He held me firm, my soft legs no match for his strength.

  Blake wasn’t doing anything. I had no idea what was going on. Shame made my face flush with heat.

  My voice was rough. “What are you doing?”

  “Looking at you. You are so fucking beautiful.”

  One of his fingers ran up my thigh. I whimpered as that finger pressed inside of me. I was so wet it slid into me easily.

  And then it was gone again. I thrashed against my bonds.

  “What are you doing to me?” I pleaded.

  “Anything I want,” Blake replied. His voice came from just below my chin, and then his teeth closed on one of my nipples. I cried out as they pressed firmly, his tongue grazing against me, then he was gone again.

  “Do you know how hard it is not to just stick my dick inside you and ram you into the headboard right now?” he whispered near my ear.

  Three fingers thrust into me then. My back arched near a foot off the mattress.

  “Do it,” I whimpered, desperate for release.

  “Do it … what?” he drawled. He dragged his fingertips down from my collarbones, skimming the outer edges of my breasts, over my belly, down between my legs and inner thighs to my knees, pressing them apart wider.

  “Do it!” I cried.

  “That’s not a very nice way to ask.” He sounded angry, and a thrill ran through me.

  He shifted position, and I could feel him holding his weight up, straddled across my chest. The hot, smooth flesh of his penis brushed against my cheek.

  “Open your mouth. I want to see those amazing lips around me.”

  I opened, more as a gasp than in obedience, and the round head of his penis prodded against my tongue. I closed my lips around it and Blake let out a rumbling groan, his body shuddering. I heard him slam a fist against the bedhead above us, grunt again, and then back away.

  I could still feel and taste him in my mouth. I wanted more, like that taste had awakened a desperate thirst in me. I wanted him in me, in me everywhere, full and deep and hard. My body strained toward him.

  “More,” I pleaded, drunk on lust.

  In return, all I got was the lightest tickle of his tongue against my clitoris.

  I begged, weakly, “Do it, please.”

  “Good girl,” he whispered against my flesh.

  He pressed his whole mouth against me, lapping fast.

  I bucked, out of control. “Please!”

  He sucked in, tugging hard on that sensitive spot.

  “PLEASE!” I screamed as the orgasm broke through me. Blake kept the pressure of his mouth on me for one more moment before shifting and plunging his hard length into me.

  My thighs shook
as I pumped forward and back, the pleasure blinding me more than the blindfold, burning through my brain in a rolling wave. Blake yanked my legs up and apart, slamming into me, with none of the consideration or gentleness he’d shown last night. Over, and over, and over again, he rammed into me in a way that shook my whole body and left me screaming. Then he tensed, staying pressed into me as far as possible as his breath dragged raggedly out his mouth.

  He sagged down to the bed, half on top of me, his weight crushing and his arms wrapped around me. I wanted to bring my arms around him too, but instead pressed my face into his shoulder. Both of us were panting, covered in sweat, our bodies still vibrating with subsiding pleasure. His breath was warm against my face as he whispered soft little words.

  “What did you just say?” I whispered, breathless.

  “I think I’ve forgotten the combination to this bike lock.”

  I startled, jerking under him.

  “Just kidding,” he mumbled, nuzzling into my neck.

  The blindfold was still on, and I enjoyed the warmth of him around me, so calm and protective after that intense experience. In the darkness of the blindfold, I could forget everything except his touch.

  “Did you use, you know?”

  “Of course.” Blake reached down, and I felt him grab the base of the condom as he withdrew. He was gone again for a moment, and I took that time to try and get my breath, and mind, back to normal.

  With infinite gentleness, I felt Blake remove my blindfold, and then unclick the bike chain from my hands.

  I pulled my bra and dress down to cover myself, and little pinpoints of pain began in my fingers and forearms as the circulation returned. I sat up and tried to shake the feeling back into them.

  “Shit, I left you tied up too long. I’m so sorry.” He’d changed completely again. Caring, concerned … sweet.

  “I’m fine.” My voice broke.

  Blake stared at me for a long moment. “Really?”

  The lazy aftermath of pleasure dropped from me like a bag of bricks. I gritted my teeth together in an attempt to hold back the sudden threat of tears, but it was easy to see that my little act hadn’t fooled him at all. “Yes, really. Stop acting like you care.”