Chapter 1
Most people, by the time they reach adulthood, have at least loosely organized some sort of “bucket list.” A collection of activities and experiences they want to take part in before they kick the proverbial bucket. Mallory Renton had such a list, full of exciting destinations around the world to visit, a novel to write, notoriously difficult dishes to prepare (she was quite the amateur chef), and a few cliche items like skydiving and seeing the northern lights.
On the day of her 45th birthday, though, Mallory decided to write another list, the items of which having bounced around in her mind since her twenties. She was feeling a bit old, now officially in her mid-40s (how was this possible?!), and thought that daydreaming back to her carefree and rather wild youth would be a bit of naughty, but innocent fun. Feeling rather cheeky already, she decided to title it, My Fuck-it List.
She began to write the list, in no particular order, in a small spiral-bound notebook that she kept at her bedside for writing ideas that came to her while laying awake in bed at night. Her oblivious husband, Brandon, intermittently snored next to her. This annoyance notwithstanding, Mallory loved her husband of 13 mostly blissful years very much, and he loved her just as deeply. They celebrated often the fact that, in each other, they had found something that few others ever had the good fortune to find. The pair had just finished a wonderful day of celebrating her birthday together with their two lovely sons and other friends and family. She looked over at him lovingly, but with a mischievous smile growing across her pretty face. If only he knew what she was up to.
For the first item on her checklist, Mallory decided she might as well be ambitious about it. After all, this list was just for fun. Just a bit of naughty make-believe. She wrote: Celebrity… Preferably Matthew McConaughey, Justin Timberlake, Chris Pine, or John Hamm. She giggled quietly to herself and blushed slightly. She mouthed the end of her pencil gently, trying to think of what to write next. Then, jumping straight from the abstract and very unlikely to something a bit more real-world, she scrawled, Tim Stephens. Tim was an old high school crush whose impressive artwork—oil paintings and the tattoos on his muscular chest and arms, both of which he showed off regularly and unabashedly on Facebook—she liked to admire more frequently than she might admit openly. Tim never noticed her much in high school; her teenage awkward phase lasted a bit longer than most. She hadn’t seen him since then, but she smiled widely as she imagined that he would be pleased with what he saw if they were to cross paths again now. She took a lot of pride in the fact that after 45 years of life, and birthing and raising two kids, she still had the youthful face of a woman fifteen years her junior, and a body that she worked hard to keep looking “sexy as fuck” (Brandon’s words, not hers). Her full breasts, round butt, and impossibly soft skin perfectly complimented her beautiful face which was framed by her long, wavy brown hair, with a few thin streaks of silver, and punctuated by her bright green eyes and kissable lips.
For a moment she was transported to a luxurious hotel room, champagne flute in hand, staring down a spellbound Tim, clad in nothing but a tight pair of boxer briefs, herself wearing only a thin silk bathrobe, held closed loosely by the sash, her nipples poking at the fabric stiffly.
A short but jarring snore from her hubby brought her back to reality, where she caught herself lightly biting on the pencil and gently rubbing her pussy through her pink polka-dot cotton panties.
Mallory removed her hand from between her soft warm thighs and took the pencil from her mouth. She wasn’t sure if her now-rapid heartbeat was caused by bursa escort the surprising sound issued by Brandon or by the gawping expression she imagined appearing on Tim’s face as he watched her robe drop on the floor of the hotel room that existed in her imagination. She got out of bed, carefully so as not to wake her man, and walked softly on bare feet to the bathroom where she swiftly removed the long tee shirt that she often wore to bed. There she stood, now covered only by her thin cotton underwear. One or two errant pubic hairs poked through the fabric just a bit. She took inventory, recalling what her body had once been. What it had been before children. Damn I was hot then, she thought. And then, still pretty cute now. She clutched her breasts, one in each hand, and lifted them up. Her petal pink nipples jutted forward. She made a kissy face at the mirror, and then she let them drop. They bounced and jiggled a little bit when they fell. Having noticed other women in the locker room, she felt that her boobs were nicer and perkier than those of most others her age.
It had taken her a while to adjust to her new breasts after feeding two babies, but she was growing to appreciate them again. Brandon seemed to like them more than ever, and she had gotten plenty of horny looks from men at the topless beach they visited the year prior. She struck a sassy pose in the mirror, it was the pose she liked to use when she wanted to feel sexy. I’ve still got it, she said out loud, a bit louder than intended. Letting her mind drift back to fantasy land, she closed her eyes and removed her panties in one swift motion. She put some extra energy into the motion, as she pretended that the hands pulling them down were not her own, but those of the next lucky member of the list. Her personal trainer, Justin. Now totally nude, she checked herself out for a moment longer, admiring the alluring curves of her hips and the pelvic creases which formed a V ending at her neatly manicured vagina. The top edges of her labia peeked out from behind a small, soft mound of fur. She imagined a shirtless Justin standing behind her, joining her in the admiration of her nudity, his stiff prick fighting against the fabric of his black gym shorts and pressing into her ass cheek while he kissed and nibbled at her neck.
Justin was incredibly strong and highly energetic. She imagined that if he fucks anything like how he exercises, she would be in for quite a workout with him. She rested her elbows on the vanity in front of her and pushed her ass out towards an imaginary Justin. Her pussy began to tingle as she imagined him dropping to his knees behind her, licking her sweet pink lips and sucking gently on her eager clit, his strong hands gripping her ass cheeks almost too tightly as wave after wave of orgasm came over her. She let her imagination linger further as she deepened the bend in her hips, her breasts now pressing against the cold countertop. She turned her toes inward and heels outward in pretend anticipation of being penetrated by what she knew would be a thick cut of meat (Justin’s gym shorts left little to the imagination).
By now her cunt was swollen and slick to the touch. Her imaginings were a great bit of self-foreplay, but pretend orgasms were only a tease. She wanted, no needed to cum. Not wasting time to put any clothes back on, Mallory crawled back into bed and quietly removed her trusty pink vibrator from her nightstand. She powered it on, and tucked it under the covers while pressing the plus button continuously until it reached full speed. Touching the tip of the pleasure device to her erect clit, she came almost instantly. It was a powerful orgasm. Her body writhed even as she tried to stifle her movement, and she pulled a pillow over her face to muffle the moans malatya escort which she could not contain. One was not enough, though. It never was for Mallory. Brandon always called her insatiable. He loved to watch her masturbate too. They had sex often, and it was good sex, but Brandon usually found that he couldn’t keep up. And so many nights (and frequently during the day at random, unexpected times) Brandon would look on in awe as his lover rubbed or buzzed herself to completion again and again. It had become something of a joke between them. If the kids weren’t home, there was a decent chance that at any given time, Mallory was either coaxing Brandon into a quick fuck, or playing with her clit like a child with a new toy. After the first intense orgasm faded, she lazily buzzed her way through half a dozen or so more. She knew Brandon would love to be watching this performance, but this time was for her. She jotted down another name. Well, not exactly a name.
4. Cop: sexual favor(s) to get out of a ticket. She imagined for a minute what this might look like, but then had several more ideas pop up and decided to write them down before they escaped her. Like the fourth item on her list, the rest weren’t all necessarily people she knew or knew of, more of categories.
5. Two men at once.
6. Black guy (she felt a bit guilty at the implied racism of this one, but despite her promiscuous youth, growing up in a nearly all-white community meant she had never been with a black man, and just couldn’t help being curious if the rumor was true)
7. Asian guy (similar guilt/curiosity combo here. Also she loved how hairless most Asian men were, and thought that their skin looked so smooth and flawless. Almost like being with a woman. Which gave her another idea)
8. Lesbian experience
9. Professional athlete
10. Husband’s friend – Jordan or Mike ideally (she couldn’t help but write this one; it was just too incredibly naughty. Like the biggest taboo.)
11. Get paid for sex (okay maybe this was the biggest taboo, she thought)
12. Contractor, UPS guy, or some other home service provider
Mallory thought to herself that the last one seemed fairly pedestrian compared to some of the others, but she also felt that ending the list at 12 was a good place to stop. One for every month of the year! She thought to herself naughtily. She laid there wondering which one to fantasize about next, but her appetite had been satisfied by the numerous self-induced orgasms. And besides, it was getting late. Little did she know, she wouldn’t need to be fantasizing for very much longer.
She put her vibrator away, making sure to place it on its charging dock inside her nightstand so that it would be at full power when she needed it next, and then turned out the reading light that had dimly lit the room during her fantasy time. She closed her eyes and her thoughts drifted around for a few minutes as she sought out sleep. She couldn’t shake the images of being taken from behind by Justin or bouncing giddily on top of Tim in the glamorous hotel room. She reveled in the thought of both their voices moaning in ecstasy as they entered her soft, wet pussy. Her mind was awake again, and she concluded that she would not be able to sleep without getting some cock. Conveniently, there happened to be one sleeping right next to her. Though when she reached over to fondle her husband, she found that while he was sleeping, his penis most certainly was not. She thought to herself, “I don’t know what he’s dreaming about, but I’m about to make it come true.” Mallory pushed her head under the covers, slipped little Brandon through the slit in his boxer shorts, and started sucking.
Brandon was not incredibly gifted in this area, but his dick suited çanakkale escort Mallory just fine. She had been with dozens of men in her life, and knew that size was not the only important thing. Brandon’s unit was of average length on a good day, and its thickness was satisfactory. Though it was not the most impressive one she’d had, it did have a slight upward curve to it that rubbed Mallory’s g-spot quite nicely when she was on top. He was the only man she had been with in nearly 20 years, since they had started dating seriously, and he was a generous and talented lover. The man knew how to use his tongue, that was for sure. He was also the first man she was able to sit still for. And by sit still, I mean not go out sleeping with every cute guy who treated her nicely, like she had done without interruption between the ages of 16 and 28. She slowed down her pace of adding notches to her sluttly little belt, so to speak, when they first met, and came to a full monogamous halt about a year into their relationship. It was her first time truly falling in love.
Naturally, fellating a sleeping man is a great way to wake him up, but by the time Brandon was really awake enough to have his wits about him, Mallory was already riding him slowly and pressing her warm, pillowy tits against his surprised face.
“Honey, I…” Brandon began to say.
“Shhhh,” Mallory insisted, further muffling his words with her breasts. She rode him for several minutes, enjoying the pressure against her g-spot and the throbbing of his member as it stiffened more completely. She knew she wouldn’t cum this way; she had only had an orgasm from sex rather than from direct clitoral stimulation once in her life. Even then, she was young when that had happened, and she wasn’t convinced it was even a real orgasm. Mallory had fucked Brandon enough times to know the signs that he was about to pop, so when the moment came, she grabbed a tissue, dismounted, and expertly caught his load, all in one fluid motion. She kissed his bewildered face, shook her pretty tits at him playfully and then left to the bathroom to flush the tissue.
When she returned to bed, Brandon had a grin on his face, but was already drifting blissfully back off to sleep. There’s nothing like an orgasm to put a man to sleep, Mallory thought to herself. Sex had the opposite effect on her though, as she imagined it did for most women. It’s an evolutionary thing, she figured. Her hypothesis went something like this: When homo-sapiens evolved as a species, it was in a woman’s best interest from a perspective of protecting her young to take the seed of as many men as possible. That way, they all think her offspring could be theirs, and would seek to protect the infant. So the men get to shoot their load and then take a nap while the women carry on fucking. Everyone wins. And if a few of the men quarrel over the issue, that’s their problem. Mallory was no scientist, but this explanation seemed logical to her, and it had stuck with her ever since she drunkenly thought it up while defending herself to a group of her girlfriends in college who were teasing her one night for fucking ten guys in a single week. Besides, those guys were hot. Those bitches are just jealous that I’m able to resist letting shame and “morality” tell me how to live my life, Mallory thought to herself at the time.
In her somewhat more awake state now, Mallory lay awake thinking that something was missing. She had gotten herself a quickie, but somehow she was left wanting. She concluded that riding the average cock of a sleeping man just hadn’t done the trick after working herself up so fervently at the thought of being manhandled and roughly fucked by her muscular, well-endowed trainer. Still, the fact remained that the clock now read 12:41 and she had work in the morning. Then it occurred to her that she also had a personal training session scheduled with Justin before work. How will I face him with a straight face after tonight? She wondered, butterflies fluttering in her stomach. With few other options available, she finally drifted off to sleep, her mind wandering into some of the naughtier corners of her dream-world.