The Fuck It List Ch. 04

Katie kept her blue green eyes on his, same color as the river, the same color that Michael saw everywhere he went since he'd found himself drowning in her heated gaze the first time. She reached for the bottom of her Strokes tee shirt and pulled it up slowly. She tugged it up, past her creamy belly. He saw that her skin was tinged with pink as if the heat of her sex had penetrated every pore. Up again, another three inches to the shiny band of her black bra. Then up, over her head and she shook her wild, golden hair free, like a triumphant pony who had just thrown her rider.

Jesus Christ, was Katie going to strip right here? Michael wasn't sure if he could let go of the wall to close the gap between them. His breath came too fast and his feet didn't move, he felt cemented in place as a tsunami of lust came over him.

Teenage girl seduction. He shivered on the inside and his body frozen and damp with sweat all at the same time. Michael watched helplessly as she wound her small fingers around the clasp at the center of her soft, bell shaped breasts. Time stopped as she twisted the lock that kept her succulent curves strapped into the fabric and then she freed herself of the contraption.

"Fuck," he mumbled as Katie peeled her bra off and tossed it to the floor.

Katie smirked and turned, slowly, deliberately, as if she needed to make sure that Michael was going to follow. Clearly she had no idea what kind of a hold she had over him. His feet moved toward her flash of golden curls and her bare back with the indentation that ran the length of her spine, into the waistband of the cut off shorts that left almost nothing to the imagination.

Katie bent over the ledge of the tub and pushed down the stopper. Her shorts couldn't contain her fleshy cheeks and Michael couldn't make himself look away. He had such fond memories, he had memorized the feel of her ass, the weight of it. His eyes watched the crease under each cheek as well as an inch or two of the most velvety flesh imaginable peeked out.

Her ass. Michael made a noise, it couldn't be helped but he quickly bit his lip to keep all the rest of the animal noises that he needed to make down inside. His fingers could still feel her warmth and her softness there. He'd memorized her scent and her taste in those moments that might as well have gone on forever. He was sure a piece of him was still on his knees, back in Savannah.

Katie stood up once more and unbuttoned the denim shorts. Once again, it was a struggle. It was an impossible choice; where to put his eyes, how to stop himself from falling to his knees. Michael wanted to start his worship with her toes, tiny, little things with a dab of pink, sparkly nail polish on each nail.

He'd start there and work his way up. Maybe next week, he'd be up to her thighs.

The sound of the zipper was louder than even the pulse that drummed in his ears. He was a beast, he was nothing more than impulse and scent. He thought that his hearing was more acute, his eyes were on the hunt. He was famished after a lifetime of starvation. The Fuck It list had been just a snack, an appetizer; something to pique his lips and tongue. This was what he'd been waiting for. Head over heels in love.

She had to shake her hips to get the shorts off. Her round, Reubanesque fullness was squeezed unmercifully into the tight fabric. The shorts came free past her thick thighs and then dropped in a puddle at her feet.

Just like Michael wanted to.

Cotton candy colored bikini panties were the last strip of fabric between her and completely bare. Michael felt his teeth sink into his knuckles as he bit back the throaty, guttural noises that could frighten a little, blonde mermaid into doing something rash, like changing her mind.

Katie asked, in a low voice, just above a whisper, as if they could be caught at any minute, "Do you like my panties?"

Michael shook his head yes. It was impossible to speak but his cock strained in the front of his Dockers, it wanted so badly for her to know the truth.

The back and forth shimmy of her hips once more was like a magic spell. The wisp of fabric was buried in her folds and covered in her honey and Michael could smell her wetness once the pink material slid down the creamy length of her calves.

Katie giggled, even as young as she was, even now, with Michael riveted in place, she knew exactly what she was doing to him. Every move was a technicolor explosion of his most secreted passions. One calf up, the toes dipped in the steaming water, then her bottom bounced as Katie moved into the tub. Her breasts, buoyant with her tiny, rosebud nipples wet and glistening on the surface.

"Will you do me a favor, Michael?" She hadn't called him that since he had touched her between her legs. This must be serious.

"Yes."

"Wash me," her voice was a woman's voice but that face, that was pure innocence. She was a naked angel. The combination was nothing short of intoxicating and there was no other choice but to obey. Michael felt his legs take over, they made decisions that his mind couldn't quite handle. He dropped to his knees beside the tub and Katie placed the dry sponge in his hand. Dry like his throat and anxious for her juices.

He dipped his hand into the water and felt the sponge swell. His cock was fully out of his briefs and it moved for her, anxious and needy.

"Are you going to tell me about the doctor?" Katie asked in a small voice and he pushed a handful of her thick golden mane back over her shoulder. The water streamed down her arm and he dipped once more into the tub.

So he'd tell her the story, the one that he never believed he'd live to repeat. "A couple of years ago, I found out that I had cancer."

"What kind?"

The kind that kills you. "Lung cancer." He took a long, slow breath and let the air fill up his belly. There had been a time that he had craved air instead of food, he had ached to feel fullness in his chest like he did now. Although now, he suspected it was his heart, maybe about to burst.

"Fuck," Katie murmured and drew her legs up, like she needed protection.

"Yeah, pretty much fucked," Michael continued. It felt like he was telling a story, something that happened a long time ago, to someone else altogether. Michael's fingertips skimmed along her wet back and traced bits of wet hair along her arms, erasing anything from the past. "So I did radiation treatments, all the chemo, and had two surgeries."

"Wow."

"And my oncologist told me that I maybe had six months to live," his hand trembled but not from the story. Michael ran the sopping sponge along the crease under her breast and just the feel of her satin skin as it brushed his knuckles was electric. "So I made a list," his face was warm and he wished that he could just leave that part out. It seemed so far away now, even though it had been the very thing that had led him to her, like a wish upon a star. "Of all the things I wanted to do before I died."

Katie was covered in goosebumps and she leaned in closer, her warm breath on his upper lip. "Uh huh," she nodded, her damp tendrils plastered to her cheeks and neck.

"A list of sexual things," Michael stopped, mid sponge, hesitated there as if to anticipate the moment when Katie would wave him away. Pervert, you fucking pervert, he almost expected her to berate him since it sounded so twisted.

She giggled, "Really?"

Maybe it wasn't so bad, Michael told himself. After all, she was the one who brought up anal as casually as some would talk about the weather. His cool, weed-smoking, devil may care goddaughter, the twinkle in her eye hinted that she'd like to know what he'd written down. Maybe even what had been checked off.

"Am I on there? I mean, us?" Katie nibbled her bottom lip.

Michael's fingers came to life as he delved into the water and pressed the wet sponge along her inner thigh. Their mouths were close, every word was like kissing and yet, he still hadn't kissed his golden girl. He shook his head and inched closer, his mouth begged for her, wordless, his body beseeched this beautiful girl to wet his lips with her tongue.

"Why not?" Katie's legs opened for him in the water. Her gentle sigh was an invitation for him to explore. His hand was a deep sea diver. His sponge moved from her inner thigh to the crease along her creamy, outer lips, those tiny little things that he'd fallen instantly in love with one afternoon in Savannah.

Michael washed her gently with the sponge the full length of her lips and felt the shiver of her want bubble up to the surface. Katie surrendered immediately and her thighs slapped in the water as she pushed her hips forward for more. His hand followed her direction immediately and pushed the sponge back and then up, a soft swipe with the rough sponge around her bulging, pink pearl. The one that made his mouth water when he looked at it. The one that made Katie Kit Kat sing when he worshiped her with his tongue. Here he was, masturbating his goddaughter in the tub, something he would never have dreamt to put on the list.

"Well, because this is different," he said, and could feel the smile that he couldn't contain on his face. Katie rubbed herself in his hand. She played with herself for him and her hips wound in the water in a slow, sensual circle and her body strummed the sponge in perfect rhythm.

"Why is it different?" she wanted to know with those blue-green eyes riveted on him, those eyes that could make him say anything.

"Because I love you."

It was Katie's kiss. She took control and no matter how many kisses Michael may have had in a lifetime, kissing for far longer than Katie had been alive, there was nothing, not a trace of anything in all those previous kisses that prepared him for this. Her mouth, her silky, hot open mouth pressed into his, and then her tongue, her slippery, small tongue dripped her saliva into his parted mouth, as if she had found him in the desert and was bringing him back to life. Her breath, her wet fingers in his hair, the water soaking through his shirt, her shoulders, bare and pressed against his chest. Katie kissed him with every inch of her body. Even her pussy opened to take him in. The little mewling noises that she made in the back of her throat made it seem as if she were even surprised.

She ended the kiss as well, with a long, hot pant, a breath that painted his face and left him, silent, frozen. Michael's mouth was still open as if it had forgotten what else it did.

"You do love me, don't you?" Katie leaned back on her hands in the water. Her swollen nipples pointed to the ceiling and the afternoon sun illuminated her nakedness.

"God, yes," he whispered. Fuck it, there was no denying it, no protecting himself. It was his heart and she'd opened it and there was nothing else to do but buy the ticket and take the ride.

"Do it with your hand," she quivered as she pushed her hips into the sponge. "Do it with your fingers," Katie almost cried with want.

Michael promised himself right then that he'd never make her beg for anything. He tossed the sponge aside in the tub and reached forward. He slipped two bare fingers along the hot, openness of her lips. Her clitoris was completely on display and if she weren't in the water, he could see it in all of its shimmering glory. It was enough to trace a circle around it and watch his mermaid writhe with ecstasy.

"Yes," she whimpered and pushed her hips up to meet every touch as her mouth melded into his. It was a symphony of her body. Her breath inside him, her tongue met his, the velvet ribbon of her tongue wrapped with his, famished and longing to be fed. The steady rhythm of her butt as it hit the water, the staccato slap of her skin as she let her Uncle Mike masturbate her for the very first time.

Michael was out of breath as his fingers picked up the pace. Her pleasure was his pleasure and his swollen dick had wet the front of his pants through completely. He could smell the musky scent of his need. His balls were hot and full and when she cried into his mouth, he almost thought that it had come from him. Something deep down, maybe from his heart, a sob of surprise because he'd never thought it could be like this.

Katie shivered and slid her hips up so that his fingers almost slipped inside. Michael pulled them back up slowly, the warm water sliced open so that he'd touch her from her molten, hot opening all the way back up to her clit. It was a needy stone, hard and pointed and full of teenage lust and he ached to make her cum so hard that he would feel her body sealed into his palm.

She gripped his forearm with her tiny fingers, surprisingly strong and he knew that he'd have ten marks from her nails as she dug in and rode him. The water slapped up the sides of the tub and cascaded over the edge. Michael knelt in a puddle that seeped through the knees, he was soaking wet and nothing mattered. Let them make a lake, let him be covered in wetness, let him writhe in the flood of her passion. "God," she cried out as she parted her thighs just a little more, just to open up for him and give him the easiest of access. Katie's head went back and her thick, blonde mane dipped into the water. The sounds that came from her were there, from her throat, deep and hoarse and it wasn't really words anymore, just an echo of sounds that meant she was about to burst.

"Cum for me, Katie," Michael groaned, his fingers played her flesh with finesse and the pad of his middle finger made a perfect vibrato on a girl's most intimate places. His goddaughter's whole body blossomed as the note that he drew from her crescendoed.

It was just her eyes at that moment and the blue-green haze and the heat that came from Katie was an ocean wave that was far overhead and threatened to drown them both. Michael didn't care. He didn't even think and maybe he didn't even breathe as he was utterly consumed by the shudder between her legs and the carnal knowledge that his hand had now of the most goddamn beautiful girl he'd ever seen.

"Yes!" Katie called and clamped her inner thighs around his hand. She held him tight as her hips gripped and flexed and her body melded with his. Every inch of her shook as the orgasm wound its way down and up. Her eyes melted, her breath came in gulps and shudders and her breasts heaved with a heartbeat that had no choice but to respond to his rhythm.

This was everything. One person, like this, Michael thought, even if it was his hand, even if it was his fingers that were baptized in her creamy cum. It didn't have to be his cock, although his erection disagreed entirely and throbbed on his thigh. Even like this with his hand, it was even more intimate maybe because he'd watched it all, and felt her quiver from his touch. He'd made the most beautiful girl in the world cum and he couldn't help but smile.

"Oh, Katie," Michael whispered, his fingers withdrawn. Now they were just tender, a soft meander along the place where her thigh and hip met. It was a slow journey along her curves, a lifetime for his hand from thigh to waist and then back down. "Honey, that was," her mouth was so close, every word was another kiss.

She finished the sentence for him. "Amazing."

Like maybe even more amazing than discovering that instead of being the walking dead, he had the whole rest of his life before him. Like he'd woken up from a bad dream just to find her there in his tub.

"Take me to bed, Michael," Katie Kit Kat said in a breathy voice and it wasn't a question and there was no girlish hesitation. She was a woman like this, little Miss Congeniality had grown up suddenly there in the water, on his fingers, guiding him to her lusty desire. In the bed would be perfect.

She stood and Michael watched as the silver streams of bathwater ran along every inch of her body. From her neck, rivulets of water between her breasts, caressed her belly, careened down her hips, little tributaries slipped to her calves. This should be his tongue, Michael thought from his vantage point, on his knees, about to beg to drink the bathwater from her skin. This should be his tongue and his fingers and his breath and his sighs, marking her, whispering into the backs of her knees and the bend of her elbows. Painting the veins at her wrists and ankles with his mouth.

She reached for the thick, gray velvety towel that was just behind him and Michael hummed as her wet forearm grazed his shoulder. He was wet, pants ruined, shirt damp, there was nothing to do but undress. Unlike the Michael of old, the Michael who would have waited until they were safely under the covers with the lights off, the Michael who would have undressed in the dark and held his breath and hoped that she touched him, the old Michael was gone.

This new Michael, the bold one, the one that had decided to live every day like there was a notebook with a list of things that needed doing before he couldn't, kept his eyes on Katie as she jiggled and dabbed at her voluptuous curves. He tugged his shirt off over his head quickly, so he didn't miss one moment of her skin on display. He opened his belt with nimble fingers and unzipped in one fast movement and let his pants fall to the wet marble tile.

Katie's smile was wicked and Michael felt the growl in the back of his throat as he dropped his boxers. The head of his cock had escaped long ago and ruined the underwear with precum. The full length of his dick was out and it wagged for her. He was so close that he could almost touch the incredible softness of her satin thigh with the molten tip.

Michael grabbed her hand, so small and sweet in his own and he pressed himself into her palm. Now it was his turn to give himself over to her, to ache in her fingers, to feel the tremor of need grip his body and send a shudder all the way down to his toes.

Katie dropped the towel and took a step forward. She was the perfect height to close her thighs around his girth as her hips snuggled into his body. On her tiptoes, she slipped her arms around his neck and her bubble gum breath sighed into him as her nipples nestled against his chest. It was an embrace unlike anything Michael had ever experienced before and he wasn't sure if he could hold back from splattering her silky thighs with an orgasm that had been churning away there ever since Savannah.

The one that came from his heart.

Her mouth parted and Katie's tongue lapped along Michael's bottom lip, just to tease his mouth open for her. His hands knew what to do, they ran down to her bottom and found home in her familiar, round cheeks, the ones that were burned into his memory. The ones that he'd parted with his fingers and the tasty, little center that he'd made love to with abandon and he pressed his dick into her, fully and dripped a salty stream of pentup need down her legs. She was an angel like this in his arms. Her delicious tongue, her sweet breath, her heart hammered against his chest so that Michael was no longer sure if it was his heartbeat or hers. Where she stopped and he started, or if he'd ever left the four poster bed or her candlelit room.

"Come on," Michael guided her in a deep, authoritative voice that surprised him. "I can't wait any more," he confessed as they moved as one from the bathroom into the bedroom. The bed was perfectly tucked and pristine white. The Egyptian cotton sheets were crisp and the linen spread was tucked and it looked like a picture in a magazine. It was a virgin bed. He'd never done anything in it and really, he thought as he bent his blonde mermaid back and dipped her low onto the mattress, it was really a virgin life. Just blank pieces of paper in a notebook, pages and pages for her sweet body to write on.

He lay her down in the center of the bed and just for a moment, before he devoured her, before he filled her and fucked her like he'd never imagined he could, Michael took in the picture of her. Her golden body, her rosebud nipples, her fleshy thighs, open and inviting and those demure, little lips that he remembered were drawn back. Katie's inner lips were deep red and swollen and glistened in the afternoon light with the traces of her passion, spent in his hand.