The Naughty List Ch. 02

I wrapped both hands around my warm cup and smiled, loving how his blue eyes became even more brilliant as he talked. Since we'd met, there had been many times we both shared various things about ourselves...from our pasts. But I couldn't remember him beaming so much. He really did enjoy what he was talking about right now.

"One of the booths at the event had talked about anthropology. How you could use the degree to be an archaeologist. I thought it was the perfect area to study. I wanted to go to all these places around the world and help uncover lost cities and their treasures. Lost civilizations."

The more he talked, the more I kept envisioning Indiana Jones movies. Which made me think of the whip the lead character used. And that made my pussy throb. While I had no desire to be afflicted with it, just the thought of the implement being brandished was surprisingly arousing. More of my naughtier side revealing itself, as Chris would say. And that made me shiver.

"Once I started at the university, I grew to like the biology courses," Chris continued, pausing to alternate between drinking and eating as he spoke. "I ended up getting a degree in that instead to allow more opportunities for employment. But even then, the jobs were harder to come by than I had been originally led to believe. I'd thought wanting to be an archaeologist was too limited. My chosen field ended up being too broad. After graduation, I did some subbing and really liked the science classes. But I didn't have a teaching degree to make it fulltime. And I didn't have the money to get the additional classes that would allow me to do that or get a higher degree."

"I'm sorry." I grasped his free hand and gave it a squeeze when our eyes met. "I know all about not having the money to do the things I really want."

"Hmm? Like what?"

I shrugged. "Not worry about making ends meet. Go on a vacation every now and then. Find a place of my own where I don't have to deal with roommates. Simple things like that. I'd just expected it would happen before I turned thirty. But unless it happens in the next fifteen days..."

He squeezed my hand back. "I hear you, honey. All admirable wishes."

Returning to eating, I nodded to the mall and asked between bites, "How long have you done this?"

"The survey thing? Three years now on Black Friday. Last year was the first for the week before Christmas. But I'm hoping this is the last year for both."

"Ooh. Big plans to change your destiny?" I tried to suppress my giggle but failed.

It was Chris's turn to blush. A rare experience to witness. Very charming, though. It made me think of him as a mere mortal, like me, and not the super always-in-control-of-everything man he presented himself to be. The word 'vulnerable' came to mind. I appreciated him even more for it.

"I received a letter last week." He bunched up his empty wrapper and played with the plastic lid from his cup, his eyes on the table. "Someone I knew while I was in college reached out with...an offer. I've been mulling it over. I really want to accept, but I feel like I've already been at the receiving end of her good graces for too long. There is no way I could ever pay her back."

"Her?" I started to pull my hand back. Just the simple pronoun had the green-eyed monster rearing its ugly head from a long slumber.

His fingers tightened around mine. "Don't. Please."

"Chris?"

"I want to explain. Just...not here. Tonight, okay?"

I nodded, somehow showing restraint when all I wanted was to hear about this woman. Why she would contact him after what, almost eight years? And why he was so concerned about accepting her proposition.

We rose together, disposed of our cups, and then walked single-file back to our post to complete the rest of the day.

If I'd thought the morning had dragged, the afternoon was even worse. The shoppers and the employees were both running out of patience, the crowds had increased, and no one really wanted to take the time to answer a consumer survey about their dish soap and laundry detergent. At one point, I wondered aloud if we'd have better luck offering up his Naughty List I'd found last year.

Chris gasped at me, his hand on his cheek. "Holly, I'm shocked that you would even suggest such a thing! These are good, wholesome people. Here I thought you were such a good girl."

I just snorted and rolled my eyes at him.

###

"Tell me about your letter?" I asked later that night while we were lying in his bed, the sheet tucked around my naked body between us. He was on his back with one arm under my neck. I was on my side facing him, and I kept sighing from his fingers casually running through my hair.

He glanced at me. "You know the song, 'Mrs. Robinson,' by Simon and Garfunkel? The movie they created with Dustin Hoffman called 'The Graduate' that had the song in it?"

"I think so. About an older, married woman who seduces a young man after college and he falls in love with her daughter?"

"Yep, that's it."

"Whoa! What the fuck? Are you telling me that the letter you got is from an older, married woman who seduced you while you were in college? And she turned you on to spanking and the like? Did she convince you to get your cock pierced?" I scurried to a sitting position as I asked my rapid-fire questions. Held the sheet to my breasts, suddenly self-conscious. "Did you have a fling with her daughter, too?"

He nodded, his face so stoic.

"Oh, my God, Chris! How could she? How could you?" I rose up on my knees, putting a little more distance between us. A slight feeling of disgust entered my thoughts for what had happened. He'd been an adult. Surely he could have said 'no' and stopped it. But he apparently hadn't. "Did she abuse you? Threaten you? Blackmail you or something? No, you must have liked it since you still do it today. Wait, do you still do it with her? Her daughter?"

Chris burst out laughing, holding his sides. "If you could see the look on your face right now, Holly!"

My chest was heaving. "What? Why is this funny?"

He reached out and grasped my hand. "I was only teasing, honey. Nothing like that happened. I swear."

I blinked at him. Wrenching my hand away, I grabbed a pillow and walloped him in the face. There was a muffled shout from the other side. I didn't even cringe. That had to have smarted, but he deserved it for the whopper he'd fed me.

He must have taken hold of the pillow because when I tried to pull on it to swing again, there was resistance. And then I was being pushed onto my back. I shoved at him, and we rolled back and forth with me on top then him. I ended up in the original position but with my hands held over my head on the mattress, the pillow pressed lengthwise between us. Below it, though, I could feel his erection pressing at my thighs, which had been bared in our tussling. I struggled to free my hands, but his grip tightened.

"Thank you for being so concerned for me, honey." He kissed me soundly then pulled back. His weight shifted until he was sitting on my thighs, my legs pinned together beneath him and his cock between us. One hand held both of my wrists now. He yanked the pillow free with his other.

For a moment, he did nothing—said nothing—but stare at me. Slowly, he pulled the sheet away, revealing my heaving breasts. His tongue darted out, licking his lips as he ground his cock against me. Then he stilled again.

"Cad," I barely breathed, a mixture of annoyance and arousal warring inside.

Chris leaned down and captured one straining nipple in his mouth—evidence of which side was winning. He moaned and pulled back, gently holding the sensitive point in his teeth. Then he let go, licked it, and sat up again, leaving me panting. Aching for more despite my determination to stay pissed off.

"Professor Bradley taught oceanography my freshman year," he said, shifting his weight to his knees but keeping my legs trapped. "Her son was the leading quarterback on our all-state team. Pete 'The Plow.' I always thought it was because of how well he played football. I didn't find out till later that he got his nickname from clearing snow with his dad every winter. He took over the physical labor part of his dad's landscaping business when his old man retired. Pete has run it all ever since. You know, it was Pete who helped me get your mom and Christmas dinner to your place last year?"

The tension in my body let up a bit. But I was still mad at him for telling me such a bald-faced lie. Even if he had been teasing.

"Pete and I became friends after being in the same study group for biology my spring semester. We hung out at his parents' house quite a bit. They were cool. I even got a job helping out at his dad's nursery taking care of the plants. Mr. Bradley always teased that I should change my degree to botany because I had such a green thumb. That maybe I was a long-lost son."

Every now and then, his body would shift as he talked. I don't think it was intentional, but it caused sparks to light up sporadically through my nether regions. And the continual pressure on my wrists only added to the arousing sensations. I bit my lower lip and flexed my fingers, trying to distract my brain from losing concentration.

"That March," he continued, "my dad got laid off. Professor Bradley overheard me sharing with Pete that I wasn't coming back in the fall because my parents couldn't afford the tuition. A week later, the Bradleys sat me down and said if I wanted to continue to get my degree, they'd see that it happened. I wasn't to worry about how to pay for my classes, and I would stay with them for housing. I think that was the first time I remember crying. My parents later told me that the Bradleys had a foundation at the university, and they hand-selected two students each year for a full scholarship. The only stipulation was that they were getting a degree in the biological sciences."

He leaned down and captured my other nipple in his mouth, this time swirling his tongue around it and sucking with his lips. My back arched up with my gasp, and he moaned against my skin. I was still panting when he moved his mouth to kiss me in the valley between my breasts. And when he continued to speak while placing soft kisses all over my breasts, using his free hand to push up the flesh.

"I finished my four years and got my degree. Worked part time at the nursery while I subbed after that. For my graduation present, my parents gifted me that classic four-door in a lovely shade of evergreen that looks like it has been in a couple of Monster Truck Rallies. It's paid off, runs well, and the insurance is dirt cheap, so I can't complain."

I giggled at that. I thought my used car was near the end of its life. His appeared to be in worse shape. We sure made a pair.

He gave me a teasing glare and nibbled at the underside of one breast, which sent me wiggling. Only his deep grind at my waist stilled me. But he did sit up. "I decided I needed fulltime employment. Over the next couple of years, I worked at various jobs that required manual labor and had nothing to do with my degree. But they always put food on the table, kept a roof over my head, and paid the bills. I was lucky I'd found this apartment so cheap. I saved up everything I earned those last three years of college. The Bradleys wouldn't let me pay for anything. I've tried to save more since then. It's not a lot by most people's standards, but I keep adding to my account at the bank for a rainy day, as they say. Hopefully, my gigs doing temp work all the time will change."

When he leaned forward again, I raised my head. Our lips met while he cupped my left breast and stroked his thumb over the tortured peak. We moaned into each other's mouths. Then he was sitting up again. Scooting back so that his cock rested between my legs now, the coolness of the piercings reminding me of one of my questions.

"When did you dedicate yourself to the lifestyle?" I lifted my chin, indicating the craftsmanship down below. "Who really turned you on to bondage and dominance?"

He laid down kind of sideways on top of me, pulling my arms closer to the top of my head but still holding them in his grip while his cheek rested on my chest, my right breast cushioning him. As a result, his chuckle vibrated through me. "Well...we were out for Pete's bachelor party, and one of the guys thought it would be a great idea if we each got a nipple pierced to commemorate the night."

"Oh, my God! And they listened to him?" I couldn't help glancing at his chest, trying to see if there were marks that he'd once had a nipple piercing.

"Holly..." Chris lifted his head.

I shifted my gaze to his eyes. Noticed the sparkle there. His wide grin. "Wait, are you..."

He tipped his chin and stuck out his lower lip. "I'm sorry, it was too easy."

"You are so lucky I can't grab that pillow again," I growled, writhing under his weight. Which did absolutely nothing but make me moan because it reminded me that a naked man was lying on top of my own naked body.

"I knew you were naughty. But borderline sadistic? My, my." He tsk tsked before lazily running his tongue along the curves of my breasts.

"Shut it. I swear..."

He mumbled something against my skin that sounded like a warning not to make promises I couldn't keep before resuming.

I just sighed, unable to resist the wave of pleasure drifting over me.

After a long moment of nuzzling and licking on his end which had us both moaning, he rested his chin in the valley between my breasts and sighed as well. "I dated a girl who worked in a tattoo parlor. Her group of friends embraced the punk rock style. Tats, piercings, drinking, drugs, wild sex parties. They were also into BDSM, and I was introduced to a pretty hardcore side of it headfirst. Specifically, the genital piercings. My girlfriend was a proponent of it being very much worth the experience for both of us. She actually did the reverse Prince Albert. One of her coworkers did the Jacob's Ladder. She had been holding back. The feelings were night and day. She'd always been multi-orgasmic, but with the added metal, it was like she had one long orgasm from the start until I came."

I suddenly regretted asking him to tell me about his past. Hearing about his sexcapades with his previous lovers wasn't really my kind of thing. Maybe because my own had bombed so beautifully. When I tried to look away, he gently turned my chin back.

"I'm sorry, honey. Please understand, I was a different guy back then. Still searching for my identity. Fresh out of college and looking to rebel from my proper upbringing, I went overboard."

My chin trembled in his fingertips. His eyes had lost some of their spark, and his smile had fallen. He seemed to be struggling as much as I was.

"Though I enjoyed the dichotomy of the Dom/sub relationship and how much my...jewelry...improved the pleasure, there were many aspects of that life I didn't like. Drugs were prevalent in our circle. Heavy drinking. Swapping partners. All three combined, usually. I never did drugs. Didn't care much for alcohol. And I'd always considered myself monogamous. I stayed true to my girl. Thought she was doing the same with me despite what her friends were doing. Then one day, I swung by our shared apartment over the studio before I headed to my second job."

I tried to read the emotions in his eyes, but they were dark and clouded now. Gazing somewhere off to the side of the bed.

"She was with two of her guy friends in our bed. They were the ones who had quote-unquote 'taught' me to nurture my dominant side. They had also been very persuasive when I was trying to decide on the piercings. I could see that they sported similar but more elaborate hardware than what I had chosen. One of the guys said it was a relief they didn't have to hide their secret anymore. They didn't even stop fucking while I gathered my stuff. I don't know how long it had been going on, but I hadn't signed up to be with someone who went behind my back like that. Who didn't have the decency to act embarrassed or apologize—even if she wasn't sincere—for cheating when she got caught."

"Oh no, Chris." I was sad for him, but honestly not that their relationship ended. If he hadn't left her...

He dropped his free hand to my neck where he played with my hair. "I walked away from her and the lifestyle that day. It was almost a year before I felt I could venture back into being a Dominant again. I'd enjoyed the role. I just needed a loyal partner. Maybe better direction. So I searched for support online and came across a popular fetish website. Found that there were varying aspects of all the roles, not just the hardcore stuff I'd been told about. It helped that I could be anonymous and still get advice. Eventually, I got brave enough to go to the local gatherings that met in public for meals and chitchat. Felt comfortable sharing about my own experiences. Asking questions."

Usually, I enjoyed Chris weighting me down. His body always felt good on mine. Made me feel safe and warm. But right now, I think he needed to feel that himself. I wanted to hold him...comfort him so badly. The fact that I couldn't because of how he'd confined me in his drawn-out seduction was frustrating. My verbal attempts to get his attention were drowned out by his voice as he continued. Or maybe he just chose to ignore me.

"Over the next two years, I hooked up with girls from those meetings. But for one reason or another, it never worked out. I wondered if it was me or the piercings. I became less assertive. Only talked to girls if they initiated it. For those who did approach me, I didn't come right out and explain how I was...endowed. But it didn't seem to matter. One girl said she could tell I was hiding something by the way I shied away from letting her touch me below the belt when we made out. After it had happened a second time with another girl, I realized I must have been subconsciously projecting my fears that I would be rejected. And the irony of it, it was happening anyway. Girls didn't stick around with guys who made it blatantly clear they had secrets."

The constant buzz of one of our phones on the nightstand had us both looking in that direction. It stopped a second later. When there wasn't a ding that the caller had left a voicemail, Chris laid his free arm across my chest under my breasts and rested his chin on his forearm, his dark eyes on mine.

"I'd never regretted the piercings. But I suddenly began to doubt I'd find a girl who would accept me with them. I considered having them removed. I was just afraid of permanent damage. So I set my mind to it that I wasn't going to stop looking for her. Waiting for her." Chris let out a shaky exhale. "Because while I had once enjoyed being a Dominant partner, I was now...nothing. A piece of me had been lost, and I wanted it back."

His thumb stroked my wrists now, which caused a low moan to creep up my throat. I writhed a little under him. Felt his cock twitch against my legs. My pussy throb in response. But I bit my lip, wanting to let him finish.

"I reached out for help from someone I knew in the local group. I wanted to get back into the lifestyle. I was referred to a guy who worked with Dominants. Trained them. And he lived less than an hour away in one of the suburbs. When I first met him, he had his basement all set up for meetings. They were nothing like the ones I was used to going to here. His included mini-seminars with proper techniques and always ended with the couples practicing whatever had been discussed. Since I was partner-less, he worked privately with me on the weekends in non-sexual situations for about six months."

While he talked, his fingers moved lazily over my skin, sending goosebumps popping up on my arms and legs...shivers skating up my back. I licked my lips and tried not to moan too loudly.