One

ANDREW

“Fucking hell,” I groan as blinding rays of sunlight creep through the curtains I failed to close last night.

The pain across my forehead immediately intensifies, forcing me out of bed to yank the damned things closed. Since I’m already up, I decide to make use of the bathroom before returning to my spot in the middle of the king-sized bed.

Brushing my teeth, I realize with a frustrated scowl that I didn’t even drink enough last night to account for this headache. So what the hell is it? I’m truly lost until I catch a whiff of a nauseous scent on my undershirt.

That damn bartender from last night comes to mind. She’d practically drowned herself in the cheap fragrance. I’d fucked her against the hood of my car after last call and I guess the smell seeped into my own clothing.

Pulling off my shirt and boxers, I’m on a mission to eradicate the smell as well as my headache. The first step is a steaming hot shower.

As the spray of water scorches my skin, I mentally catalog the events of the last few weeks. Everything is going according to plan. Last night I’d been able to check the redheaded bartender off my list.

I have a bucket list of types of women I want to fuck. There’s a list of more than two-hundred boxes that I want to check off before I turn thirty. So far I’ve ticked seventy boxes. Not bad considering I still have two years before my thirtieth birthday.

Fucking a woman in all fifty states had settled a large chunk of the items on the list. I’d traveled from state to state working on my paintings last winter as well as enjoying the local flavor every single night.

Since returning home six months ago, progress down the list slowed substantially but I wasn’t at a standstill by any means. I just need to think of new tactics to go after what I want.

With the hotheaded bartender checked off, it’s time to focus my attention on the rest. There’s an entire section for career woman I haven’t explored yet and I think it’s about time that I do.

A hot weather girl, naughty nurse or bossy lawyer should be a good start.

It can’t be that hard to rack up a few more, especially since summertime is here and women are practically out in spades looking for their next fling. At least that’s all they’ll be getting from me.

I don’t do long term. Under any circumstances. It’s never happening. Not once have I met a pussy special enough to make me commit to a lifetime of routine and boring sex in the missionary position. A shudder runs through me just thinking about it.

Misty down at Channel Five news has been screaming for my affections at the last few events we’ve attended. But little does miss sunny days know, she’s about to get my undivided attention.

She’s blonde with tits the size of Texas and a Colgate smile. What’s not to like? I decide to give her a call later as I step out of the shower and onto the heated tile flooring.

With a towel wrapped around my waist, I slick my fingers through the short tufts of hair, deciding to sort it out later because a cup of coffee is calling my name. The shower had helped with the smell but I’m hoping a serious dose of caffeine will eliminate the headache.

In my kitchen, I head to the single-serve coffee machine my housekeeper, Gladys, installed for the days she isn’t here. Being Sunday, she has the day off and I’m left to fend for myself. As much as anyone would have to do with a fully stocked fridge overflowing with their favorite meals.

Gladys always outdoes herself.

Hovering near the counter, I drink the strong Colombian coffee like it’s water. My eyes barely take in the old but polished features of my kitchen because it’s the same thing I’ve looked at for years. After inheriting the place at the age of twenty-one, it’s been my bachelor pad ever since. Only minimal updates have been made over the years to preserve the historic structure.

Halfway done with my second mug of coffee, I open the fridge to inspect the contents and Gladys didn’t disappoint.

“Hell yeah,” I say, pulling out the Tupperware full of her famous baked ziti.

Never mind the fact that it’s nine in the morning, Gladys’ baked ziti is perfect for any time of day.

With it heating in the microwave, I make my way to the front hall to inspect the pile of mail I’ve neglected all week. It’s stacked neatly so I grab it and begin flipping through envelopes.

Bills. Event invites. Credit card offers. Coupons for services that I will never need.

The usual bullshit.

A brightly colored leaflet catches my eye. Well, not so much the leaflet but the woman on it.

She’s fucking hot. Even though it’s just a headshot, the photo sends weird signals throughout my body.

The woman is a brunette with eyes darker than my morning coffee. She has the face of an angel. Everything about it is feminine and soft, from her slightly rounded cheeks to her small nose and her full pink lips.

Her neck is fucking perfection. The pallor of its complexion is begging me to mark it with my mouth and show the world that she’s been marked off my list.

Flawless, straight white teeth are bared by her warm smile and I can just imagine the feel of those full lips wrapped snuggly around my shaft as I pump deep into her throat. In an instant my mind transports me to a scene with her kneeling before me, her knees digging into the cold hardwood floor as she takes me into her hot, wet mouth.

Holy hell.

Never in my life have I been so damn turned on by the idea of someone. And I can’t even see the rest of her! An urgency I can’t explain comes over me and I know I need to see the rest of her.

I need her. If the tent rising at the front of my towel is any indication, this sexy brunette is going to be next tick on my bucket list. The need growing inside of me is carnal and I intend to satisfy my hunger.

Scanning the leaflet, it’s for a wealth management firm situated in the center of Greenwich that I’ve never heard of before.

Tossing the rest of the mail on the table, I turn and head back to the kitchen still staring at the leaflet. Mentally, I’m updating my checklist all the while. This woman is divine and I’ve got to sample her for myself.

Despite its rocky start, today is turning out to be good after all.

The day I can add “fucked a woman on a leaflet” to my running total will be a good day indeed.