The F#ck It List: The Complete Story Read online

  He really did. All those years Adam acted like the perfect guy, ambitious and a plan for everything. I'd felt lucky to find a guy who wasn't some slacker and loser. Someone I thought could be a partner. Instead, I've come to believe he wants a fifties housewife, not a forensic scientist. Someone to ornament his arm, not someone who smells perpetually like glue and bleach.

  I have utterly no interest in that life.

  I pat Scott's arm. "I know. The list helps though. Thinking about it and planning it." Fantasizing about it.

  He props up on his elbow. "Right. How goes the infamous list?"

  I puff out a frustrated breath. "I think I should try seducing a different professor."

  "Why?" he asks.

  I purse my lips into a pout. "Because I'm getting nowhere with Professor Roux. I slipped him the bait, and he hasn't taken it."

  "You're not the only one who's heard the rumors. You should stick with it."

  I shake my head and turn a little to face him. "Yeah, but the louder a rumor is, the less likely it's true. He's hot and young for a professor. It's just wishful thinking."

  The Frisbee flies toward us and Scott plucks it from the sky, sending it back to the idiots with a snap of his wrist. "I wouldn't be so sure."

  I watch a sophomore who looks twelve chase after an upperclassman, begging her for a date. Idiot. "Maybe my English professor. He isn't nearly as hot, but attractive enough." The thought doesn't really excite me, but I could use extra credit in that class too I suppose. English isn't my best subject. I hate writing.

  Scott flops over to his stomach and gives me that blazing look of his that has been turning me on lately. "You know; I could always dress as a professor. Tweed jacket and elbow patches. We could have a bit of role play and cross it off your list."

  I laugh and shove him. "Shut up." Though the idea sounds fun as hell. Really fun. A little too fun.

  Scott doesn't laugh with me, just watches me with intense eyes.

  "What? You okay?"

  He smiles. "Of course."

  "So, enough about me and my list and my drama. What's going on with you? Chasing any new tail?"

  His smile falters. "Nope. Haven't met anyone new I'm interested in chasing."

  "Whatever happened with you and Emma? You two were hot and heavy for a while and then she just disappeared. And I'm so self-absorbed I didn't ask. I'm sorry, Scott." I've been a shit friend lately. And he's been utterly the best.

  "No worries. We just weren't a great match."

  They were adorable. "How? She was really sweet. And gorgeous. And smart. What more do you want?"

  He picks at the fluff from the blanket. "We just have different tastes in certain important aspects of a relationship."

  Sensing we veered towards a sensitive subject he didn't want to discuss, I leave it alone. She must have hurt him bad. He'll talk when he's ready. He's always been the closed off one in our relationship. He has to mull over everything himself before opening up to me about it. But he always eventually opens up to me.

  I try to lighten the mood, the day too pretty for maudlin thoughts. "Maybe you should make a fuckit list for yourself too."

  He snorts and shakes his head. "I'm having enough fun following along with yours." He stares up at the sky.

  I laugh. "It's not like I've completed any of them yet. I'm starting to think it never will. I was so drunk I came up with impossible tasks."

  His eyes pierce me. "I wouldn't say that. You're fucking gorgeous. It shouldn't be hard for you to get anyone you want. You just haven't had much experience yet. Once you do, you'll get more confident and it'll get easier."

  I shrug. "Maybe. You know if you made one, we could have a competition. Whoever finishes first wins."

  "I've only got one thing I'd put on a list and I'm pretty sure it's impossible." He rips up and handful of grass and sends it floating through the air.

  "And what is that?"

  "It's a secret."

  I hide the pang of hurt that slams into me. "Even from me?"

  He pats my hand. "Even from you. For now, anyway."

  I frown, worried about him. He sounds wistful and a little sad. Is he pining after a girl who's taken or does he have a kink too weird to name? I’m intrigued.

  My breath catches in my throat and my eyes widen behind my sunglasses when I catch sight of Professor Roux headed right for us. It chases all worries about Scott from my head.

  "Shit. Be cool. Shit. It's the Professor."

  Scott rubs his finger across my bare shoulder. "Perhaps we should try to make him jealous."

  "I doubt that'll work." Goosebumps cover my skin where he touched me. I haven't been able to stop reacting to each of his touches, innocent or otherwise.

  His finger slides all the way down my arm. "I wouldn't be so sure."

  Something has changed between us, something I wasn't sure was a bad thing. If anything, we were much closer. And what was a little sex between friends?

  "You're repeating yourself." I tease him to try and bring us back to a joking conversation. To not show him his touch affects me.

  He brings his face close to mine. "I'm hoping it'll help it sink in. There's no way he doesn't want you."

  I release my breath once the Professor finally passes us without a second glance. "He didn't even look at me."

  Scott finally backs off a little, grinning. "How would you know? You were looking at me."

  I shiver. "I was trying not to ogle him and be completely obvious."

  His eyes widen and his grin grows. "Uh huh. Well, he's doubling back, so look sharp."

  "Shit."

  The Professor comes to stand between me and the sun, plunging me into darkness. With the light at his back, I'm unable to see his face clearly.

  "Hello, Professor."

  "How's your extra credit going?" he asks.

  I sit up, avoiding Scott's eyes. "To be honest, I cannot freaking stand writing papers. It's why I went into the sciences. My brain is good with numbers and formulas. Not so much with words."

  He nods. "I see. Well, you will notice, if you read the extra credit handout I gave you carefully and thoroughly, I keep special office hours to discuss just these sorts of problems." He stalks off without another word.

  I stare after him, completely flabbergasted. "FAHK. Now, I'm super going to have to write that GD assignment."

  "No, dude. That was a proposition."

  I guffaw. "He wouldn't have done that in front of you."

  "Of course he would. For one, it's how he proves he's on the up and up, that it's all innocent. But those special office hours aren't for normal students. My guess is not everyone who requests extra credit, gets anything other than those paper assignments."

  "And two?" I cock a brow at him and smirk.

  He holds up two fingers, his blue eyes brimming with mischief. His eyes are always full of mischief, the brat. "And two, he saw me touching you. It riled him up and he wanted to show me up even if I don't realize it. He knows you will."

  I scoff. "Bull. Freaking. Shit."

  "You'll see."

  "Side bet?"

  "Side bet. Winner gets head." He holds out his hand.

  I grasp it and we shake, grinning at each other. What's a bet like that between friends, anyway?

  Either way, I win.

  8

  I smooth the skirt down my legs as I pause in front of the Professor's office. I'd put on my most professional outfit before coming here. An outfit I plan to use for interviewing for jobs once I graduate. I need the armor for this meeting. My teeny tiny outfit had been a complete disaster.

  After waking up twisted in sheets from incredibly erotic dreams, I decided to say fuck the fuckit list. It was making me too crazy and now I was in over my head. At this point, I hope he'll softball this paper. The topic is way above and beyond my usual coursework and I have no interest in a Masters in chemistry. I just want to pass with a decent grade.

  Nerves flutter in my belly, making me a bit nauseous. It's i
ncredibly early; his office hours are way before the first early classes begin. No one's around, everyone still in bed like sane people.

  Telling myself to woman up, I raise my hand and knock on the door.

  "Come in."

  I open the door and step inside, barely past the door frame.

  He's standing behind his desk, only a small lamp giving off a small glow to the room. "Close the door behind you," he says.

  I do, stepping in a bit further. His office smells of his vanilla pipe tobacco, like he'd just finished smoking. His walls are covered with leather bound books on brown shelves. A large wooden desk sits in the center of the room, the surface completely bare except for a ruler. A leather chair rests behind it. There's nowhere for me to sit. Am I supposed to stand at attention or something?

  "Approach the desk." His voice is frigid and stern.

  With an audible gulp, I obey his command after dropping my bag on the floor, my steps slow and tentative. Why is he being so cold and scary? How badly am I screwing up this class? Am I failing? I'll do anything he wants if he'll help me pass. What am I doing here? What have I gotten myself into?

  I reach his desk and stare at him across it, my heart beating hard in my chest. So hard I start to worry the buttons on my white shirt will burst open and scatter across the floor.

  Before I can open my mouth to throw myself on his mercy, he steps out from around the desk and slams me across the hard surface. My hands shoot out and slap the wood, gripping the edges of it as I squeal in shock.

  What in the actual fuck? What is going on? What is he doing? I need to get out of here, this is not what I signed up for.

  One of his hands pins me down by the center of my back. His ruler rests right in front of me.

  I struggle against him. "Professor?"

  "Remain still, please, Amanda. And keep your hands there on the desk."

  "Uh, okay, Professor." What the hell have I gotten myself into? I gulp and squeeze my eyes shut, strangely exhilarated, but still scared and confused.

  His other hand travels down to my ass, rubbing over first one cheek and then the other before dipping into the crack.

  My chest tightens as I gasp. It wasn't a rumor. Is he going to fuck me? Please, let him fuck me.

  This time his hand comes down on my ass with a slap. "I know what you were doing the other day in class."

  I squeal, shock and pain burning through me. "What?"

  He spanks me again, this time on the other side. "You will address me as Professor."

  "What, Professor?"

  "The way you were dressed."

  I don't know what to say. Or do. A bit of shame starts to build inside me. I should get up and leave. And then report him. Why am I still bent over his desk with my hands in place?

  The pain and heat from his strikes spread, heading directly for my pussy. Pain and pleasure battle for dominance. And I give in. Hadn't I fantasized about just this the night I made the fuckit list? Being a naughty schoolgirl punished by the professor?

  Again, his hand comes down on me. I rock against the surface of the desk from the force of it. I'm unable to hold back a cry of pain-pleasure.

  He keeps spanking me, saying nothing for a few moments, the only noise in his office my gasps, moans, and cries and the slap of his hand against the tender skin of my ass.

  What is wrong with me? Why am I enjoying this? I never thought I was a masochist, but based on the state of my panties, I need to rethink it.

  "You kept thrusting your breasts at me, your nipples hard and almost slipping over the top. Those tiny little shorts, your ass cheeks hanging from the back. Then, on the quad in a little sun-dress with your breasts spilling out yet again. Letting that boy touch you for all to see."

  The spanking halts and he shoves his hand between my legs, slipping between the fabric and my skin. He grabs my soaked pussy with harsh fingers.

  "I don't think you're learning your lesson."

  "What lesson, Professor?" My voice is strangled as I rotate my hips, trying to get him to slip inside me.

  "I'm not impressed with the way you came dressed to our first meeting. In fact, I'm quite disappointed, especially after I've seen your more recent attire." His fingers pinch my clit and then he pumps inside me twice before pulling away.

  I almost sob, wanting him back. Wanting him to fuck me. Hard. To pound into me from behind the way Scott had, and spanking me the whole time.

  "I'm sorry, Professor."

  "I think I should use something else to really make sure the lesson hits home." He grabs the ruler off his desk.

  My eyes widen and I grip the desk harder.

  "Lift up your skirt."

  "Yes, Professor." I take my hands off the desk and grasp the sides of my skirt, raising the fabric with nervous and slow movements, my heart pounding and ass burning. The fabric of the skirt rubs against my sore flesh, making it sting even more. I wince and keep my eyes on the window covered with maroon curtains, gulping once I have the skirt bunched up around my waist, revealing my cherry-red thong.

  He plucks the band of my red thong, snapping it against my sensitive ass. I moan. My nipples harden even more against the desk and my fingers dig around the edge of it.

  His hand rubs lightly over the cheeks of my ass, barely grazing the skin. I raise my lips, wanting more contact.

  The ruler comes down on my backside with a brutal sting. I cry out, stunned at the pain, but it burns and morphs into a heat shooting straight to my core.

  "Your ass is turning such a lovely shade of crimson. It almost matches your thong."

  I moan again in response.

  The ruler strikes the underside of my ass, incredibly close to my pussy. Then each of the back of my thighs. I tremble and shake, disturbingly close to climax.

  A flurry of smacks rains down on my ass and thighs and even occasionally my pussy until I'm biting my lip to keep from screaming. My skin is on fire and my panties are drenched with desire.

  The ruler clatters onto the desk beside me as I pant and he releases my back, my nipples so hard I expect them to score into the wood. He comes around to the other side of the desk and stands in front of me, his dick bulging inside his pants.

  "Have you learned your lesson yet?"

  I squirm, my ass burning, but wanting more. I don't want this to be over. "I don't think so, Professor."

  "Dress for the job you want." His hand comes to rest on the back of my head with just the slightest pressure.

  I smile and reach my hands out to the buckle of his belt. He's giving me the chance to make up for it with a blowjob.

  I release him from his pants and he's big. Not as wide as Scott, but still way bigger than Adam. He's thin, but long, maybe even a little longer than Scott. The end of him crooks up a little. He would pierce deep inside me.

  With a greedy mouth, I swallow his cock, grabbing the base and bob up and down on him. The desk is cutting into my belly and my backside is still bare for anyone to see if they came in.

  I shudder at the thought of being caught like this. My behind as red as my thong, probably with welts from the ruler. And Professor Roux still basically fully clothed with his dick stuffed into my mouth.

  If only it was stuffed somewhere else.

  The hand still on my head digs into my hair and he fists it, yanking the strands as he starts moving in my mouth faster. Who knew I would ever enjoy sucking cock? And now, I owe Scott the same favor.

  The Professor's is different than Scott's. It doesn't hurt my jaw as much to wrap around him, but it goes in a little bit farther. He tastes different too, a little sweeter, a little muskier. He isn't as light and fresh as Scott, but not in a bad way. I like it almost as much. It reminds me of his pipe smoke, like it's infused deep into him.

  He starts moving even faster and harder, pumping in and out of my mouth. All I can do is keep my throat relaxed and mouth open and take it. He fucks my face like Scott did and I love it.

  It's one of my new favorite things. I have a lot of
new favorite things.

  My pussy throbs, soaking my panties even more. I want nothing more than for him to rip out of my mouth and plunge into me and fuck me senseless. But I have a feeling that isn't what's in the cards today. Today is about my punishment for being a naughty tease.

  I can't wait for his next office hours.

  I release the desk with one of my hands and I start to bring it down to my pussy, desperate for touch there, desperate for release. Before I reach it, he spanks me again, never breaking his stride.

  I growl around his cock and his hand comes down on my rear twice more and his grip on my hair grows harsher. He yanks, bringing me down on his dick until I gag.

  "You're lucky you have such a hot mouth and I'm feeling forgiving." His voice is strained, showcasing his desire.

  I suck on him, grazing the side of his cock with my teeth. His hisses and thrusts harder. It pleases me, him finally showing a slight loss of control.

  The Professor stiffens all the way in my mouth and his cum spurts and coats the back of my throat. He's in so deep, I barely taste it.

  Once he finishes shuddering, he releases me and steps back, his dick sliding away. I give the tip a quick lick before it's completely out. He grunts and tucks himself back inside his pants.

  "Get off of my desk."

  I scramble to obey, plucking at my skirt to get it back into place. My pussy clenches, still so desperate for touch, for filling. The Professor steps close to me, reaching into the opening of my shirt and tweaks one of my nipples.

  "I trust you'll have these a little more readily available next time."

  My eyes close and my hips jerk towards him. 'I will, Professor."

  "Excellent." He turns away and returns to his desk. "Close the door behind you."

  I shudder at his repeated words. I grab my bag, leave his office, and hurry down the hall to one of the bathrooms. Classes will be starting soon, but I should have a few minutes alone and I don't have time to go home and come back to campus.

  But I can't spend the day like this. Hot and horny with sopping panties.

  Inside the bathroom, I check to make sure no one else is in here. It smells of disinfectant and bleach and all the toilet seats are up. No one's been in here since the night cleaning crew came through.