I watched as Jenny Card came out of the rear entrance of her parent's pizza place. She trotted lightly across the parking lot and jumped into Eddy's car. I was parked next to Eddy, but it was late in the evening and I was sure that Jenny couldn't see me in the shadows. I scrunched down in the seat of my old Mustang and prepared myself for a show.
Jenny immediately wrapped her arms around Eddy's neck. Their faces moved in and out of the shadows, but it was obvious that they were swapping tongues. I could see Eddy's hands move to Jenny's breasts and then his hands went out of sight as he reached lower.
Eddy was a real character. He had a fantastic car and the boyish good looks that drew girls like flies. Plus, he had a job that he loved, delivering pizzas. He was the main delivery guy for the House of Cards Pizza Palace. Name an address within a ten mile radius and Eddy could tell you the fastest way to get there given the state of the local traffic, the weather and maybe even the phase of the moon. Most people would drive an old beater to deliver pizzas, but not Eddy. He had a tricked out Mitsubishi Eclipse that was nice; guys had been known to order a pizza just to get a chance to look it over.
Over in his Eclipse, Eddy and Jenny were putting on a good show. I could feel my cock begin to swell. Not a problem for most guys, but I had to adjust myself to make sure that my substantial meat had plenty of room to grow. If it got wadded up in my shorts I would be in for a lot of pain. I always wore loose fitting pants and jockey shorts. Tight pants or boxers would leave me looking as if I had a third leg. I reached around to my left hip and gave my cock head a good squeeze. "Easy boy," I muttered under my breath. I usually whacked off three or four times a day just to take the edge off my libido. But today was a Friday and my college professors liked to give exams on Fridays, so getting my rocks off had been pushed to the back of my mind. Now I was at my part time job, watching my fellow workers make out like they were the only two people on the earth, and the monster between my legs was beginning to demand some attention.
There was an electronic hiss in the air and a second later the voice of Ellen Card, Jenny's mother, came through a loudspeaker. "Pickup," she said in her crisp, business like manner.
I waited about thirty seconds for Eddy to emerge from his car. I expected that he would check his fly, tuck in his shirt and run his fingers through his hair. It was his turn to make a delivery and he had only a certain amount of time in which to do it. Late pizzas were free pizzas, and Mr. and Mrs. Card really, really hated to give away their product.
When Eddy failed to make a move, I got out of my car and walked over to the driver's side of the Mitsubishi. I tapped on the window and smiled at the flurry of movement it caused inside the car. The window lowered a few inches and I heard Eddy say, "Dude?" by way of asking me what was going on. From where I was standing, I couldn't help but see that he had both hands covering his crotch. OK, I was a little envious. Jenny was cute and my cock gave a twitch at the thought of getting a hand job or maybe even a little oral action from her. But she usually ignored me and practically threw herself at Eddy, and besides, she was the boss' teenage daughter.
"Dude, delivery," I said. I hate to use the word 'dude', but it somehow it seemed to cover whole paragraphs of meaning with Eddy.
"Dude?" he asked, with a pleading look in his eyes. Clearly he didn't want to get out of his car right then.
"Dude," I answered with a thumb up. I would take his place.
I jogged into the House of Cards. Mrs. Ellen Card was at her usual place behind the counter. If her daughter, Jenny, was cute, then Ellen was beautiful. She was one of those women who refused to age. She was about five and a half feet tall with short, dark hair. The House of Cards work shirt that she wore was tailored to fit her tiny waist and bulging breasts. She could talk on the phone, enter orders into the computer and make change for customers all day long, and she would still look better than most women just beginning their day of work.
She and I had a little history between us and as a result, she could be curt and businesslike where I was concerned. When I came in the door she frowned and said, "Where's Eddy? I thought it was his turn to deliver."
"He wanted to take a break," I said. "I got it covered."
She shoved the pizza, in its insulated carrier, across the counter. I noted the slip of paper that contained the address and amount to be collected, grabbed the container and headed for the door.
"Have you seen Jenny?" Mrs. Card asked as I nudged the door open with my free hand.
"Uh, I think I saw her in the parking lot a few minutes ago," I said. I cut off any more discussion by letting the door close behind me as I left.
The windows of Eddy's Eclipse were fogged over as I walked by. Whatever they were doing in there involved a lot of hot breath. My cock gave another throb. Oh great, I thought, I'm so horny that I'm getting turned on by wet glass now.
I got into my Mustang and in a second the big eight cylinder engine rumbled to life. Yeah, I know. It's not exactly a pizza delivery car either, but it's all I have. My delivery was to an upscale housing development not far away, and I was knocking on the door to a half-million dollar home ten minutes later.
The door opened a few inches and a man's face appeared. He looked to be in his early twenties. In fact, I thought that I recognized him from school, but I couldn't be sure. "Pizza," I said, holding the carrier at chest level.
He looked me over for a second, and then said, "Come on in."
In my experience, there are five kinds of people who want you to bring the pizza into their homes. Most of them are people who think it's simply the polite thing to do, or they're lonely and want a few minutes of conversation. There are people who want to order you around like you're a waiter and sniff at the pizza as if it were a vintage wine. There are the near mythic women who are so horny that they'll fuck the young pie bearing stud at their door, no matter that he's a complete stranger. Lastly, there are the weird old men who make it clear that the sausage they're interested in isn't the one on the pizza. For them, I wear running shoes and carry a large, easy to open pocket knife.
As the man walked away from the door, I could see that he was wearing only a towel around his waist. He was much too young to fall into the weird old man category, but I fingered the knife in my pocket, just in case. As I followed him into the house, I had to admit that he had a good build. Not that I pay much attention to how guys look, but he did have a narrow waist, plus well muscled arms and shoulders.
We walked through a foyer and turned to the right into a den. There was a large, high backed sofa in the middle of the room. It faced a hissing gas fire place. As we rounded the sofa, the guy said, "Pizza's here."
When I saw who he was talking to, my eyebrows nearly shot up to my hairline. She was beautiful, very blonde and very nude. She grabbed a tee shirt out of a mix of his and her clothing that had been flung on the back of the sofa, and used it in a futile effort to cover her pair of enormous breasts. "Alex," she squealed, "why did you bring him in here?"
The guy, Alex, laughed as he took a seat on the long sofa. He motioned to a coffee table that was nearby. "Just put the pizza down there," he said.
I tried not to stare at the girl as I slid the pizza out of its carrier, but even out of the corner of my eye, she looked fantastic. She also looked much younger than her boyfriend, but that was none of my business. I cleared my throat and said, "That's thirteen eighty-five, please"
There was a wallet on the coffee table, but Alex didn't reach for it. Instead, he removed his towel and put it aside. He took a healthy looking cock in hand and began to stroke it. He nodded at the girl and said, "Good looking, isn't she?"
Well I couldn't very well stand there and watch him beat his meat, so I turned my attention back to her. She wasn't making any huge effort to cover herself. She had crossed her slim legs, but I could still see the little fringe of blonde hair above her pussy. My eyes traveled across her flat tummy to her fantastic boobs. The tee shirt barely covered her nipples and her crossed arms only pushed all that creamy flesh up and out. Her blond hair was fanned out on the dark throw pillow that supported her head, and her deep blue eyes looked at me in frank amusement.
"Very nice," I said. That was kind of weak, but I didn't know what else to say.
"You see her bellybutton?" he asked. When I nodded, he said, "I filled that full of cum a few minutes ago, and after we have a little snack, I'm going to shoot another load in her pussy."
"Oh shit," said the girl. She may have been secure about her looks, but her boyfriend was beginning to embarrass her.
"Well," I said, "thirteen eighty-five and you guys can get back to your party."
Alex laughed again. Not in a humorous tone either. "What's your name?"
"Jack," I answered.
"Tell you what, Jack. This dick is the only one she's ever known." I couldn't help but look in his lap. By now, he was stroking eight thick inches of erect cock. "And," he continued, "I'll give you a big tip if you'll drop your pants and show her what an average guy looks like."
"Alex," said the girl as if to urge him to shut up.
"Come on," I mumbled, "just pay for the pizza and I'm out of here."
.... There is more of this story ...