Pizza Girl - Cover

Pizza Girl

Copyright© 2007 by JimWar

Chapter 4

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 4 - She caught his eye while he was waiting for his take-out order. Later he found she was homeless and alone. He rescued her but after a few days wondered who rescued who. Romance and Stroke. Who says you can't have both?

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/ft   Teenagers   Consensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   First   Safe Sex   Oral Sex  

The ride over to Maria's old apartment went back through the neighborhood where we had met at the pizza shop. I smiled as I drove past, thinking how my life had changed in just two short days. I hadn't realized how empty my life had become until it was filled by the joy and happiness that Maria had brought with her. I knew I couldn't survive going back to the way things had been. I had discovered what true pleasure and contentment could be. It wasn't just the sex, although our love-making was better than any I had ever experienced, it was having a special someone with whom to share my life.

As I had that thought, I looked over to Maria perched in the seat next to me. She smiled warmly at me after looking at the shop. I got a feeling from the look of peace and contentment I could see in her eyes that she was probably thinking the same thing about our weekend.

As we got closer to the apartment Maria seemed to become a bit fidgety and anxious. I doubt that she was relishing the thought of the confrontation to come. As she directed us into the apartment parking lot she pointed out Karl's car in the space for the apartment. The apartment was in the back on the first floor. We parked in the visitors spaces across the lot and Juan and Carlos met us in the parking lot. I told Maria to stay back behind us as we went to the door of the apartment.

I don't know what I was expecting this guy to look like but I was really surprised when I knocked at the door and a pretty young woman dressed in Jeans and a T-shirt answered the door. Her Jeans and T-shirt were dirty and it was obvious that she had been hard at work when I knocked. She looked past us and could only see Juan and Carlos as Maria was hidden behind them and not visible. As soon as she said 'yes' Maria evidently recognized the girl's voice, pushed between the two older men, and began a rapid-fire verbal assault on her in Spanish. I don't know what she said but the young woman heated up really fast and was soon returning fire in the same language. It looked to me as if the two were going to come to blows when as quick as it had escalated, the exchange wound down.

Maria turned to me and said, "Sam this is Juanita Gomez, Karl's ex-fiancé."

As soon as Maria said that Juanita let loose another barrage of Spanish invectives which were directed at Maria. Juan and Carlos laughed at the exchange.

Maria smiled at me and said, "She said that I was an ass for associating her with that... well a lady can't say what she called him."

Juanita looked at all of us and said, "Won't you come in?"

I was still curious as to where Karl was and why Juanita was here.

Juanita was obviously in the middle of cleaning and moving as there were boxes stacked everywhere. The place looked more like a saloon than an apartment as there were beer bottles and cheap wine bottles on the tables, counters and even stacked on the floor in places. The sofa, which looked like someone had thrown up all over one arm, was stacked with boxes as well. As there was no place to sit in the living room we moved to the dining room table where Juanita offered us seats. She explained that she could only offer us tap water to drink as the refrigerator was being cleaned.

After we dispensed with the social niceties, Juanita brought us up-to-date on what had happened since Maria had run away from Karl. Juanita was obviously not happy with Karl and the mere mention of his name was enough to cause her face to redden in anger.

After Maria had left, Karl had found some money that Maria had missed when she left. He had used this money to throw a party and had invited everybody he could find. The party had lasted for two days over the weekend. The event was boisterous enough that neighbors had called the cops twice due to the loud noises. Eventually everyone left and Karl passed out in the bedroom. On Monday the regular manager, haven been advised of the disturbance, came by to check the place out. He found the door open and the place in even worse shape than it now appeared. Karl, who didn't answer repeated knocks on the door, was lying in a pile of vomit on the bed. The manager deduced that Karl was probably only ill from the party but, not wanting to take a chance on a lawsuit, he called 911.

The results were that Karl was first taken to the hospital and then ended up in jail for assaulting the paramedic who tried to rouse him from his drunken slumber. The manager, who was trying to recoup something from the loss, called the numbers on the deposit form. The only one of those numbers he could get was Juanita's father, who was a friend of Maria's father. One thing led to another and because Juanita had moved out to live with Karl in the first place she was given the unpleasant task of cleaning the place up so it could be turned over to the manager.

We ended up staying for an hour and a half and helped finish cleaning up the place. Juan and Carlos left after helping me move the rest of Maria's things to my car. I didn't understand a lot of what was said as Maria and Juanita spent a lot of the afternoon speaking to one another in that rapid fire dialect of Mexican-Spanish that only a native could understand. A couple of times I could pick my name out of what was said. Juanita would sometimes steal a glance over towards me at the mention of my name, but they could have been discussing the length of my cock or my hat size or any one of a hundred other things. I doubted it was my cock size, not that Maria was above that, but I didn't hear any giggling during the discussion.

On the way home Maria told me that a lot of the discussion was Juanita asking her if I had any brothers or friends that wanted to meet a nice Mexican girl. Maria had told Juanita that she only met me two days ago and so didn't know anything about my friends or relatives with the exception of Juan, Carlos, Sofia and ugly Maria. Juanita had told Maria that she didn't want to stay at home any longer than absolutely necessary. Her father was evidently making her life hell for her bad decision with Karl. It had gotten so bad that Juanita had decided that next time, no matter what, she was not going home again.

She said that Juanita had given her a letter from her father with his new address. The letter didn't say much other than to give the address and tell her that he was working on returning as soon as possible. Oh yeah, and it seems like Juanita's father had called Maria's father telling him that Maria was missing. Maria's father was so upset that he was thinking about paying one of the coyote's who smuggle illegals across the border to secrete him across so he could come back to look for her. Juanita's father had wanted Maria's father to file a report with the police but they had decided to wait hoping that she would show up in the next couple of days. Maria had promised Juanita that she would call her father the next day and let him know she was alright.

We worked at the apartment so late that I decided to take Maria out to eat. I knew a Chinese place run by an older Vietnamese woman near the neighborhood of Maria's old apartment, so we went there. It turned out that Maria loved Chinese food and we had a very enjoyable meal. The lady that runs the place had taken a liking to me several years ago when I first started dining there. Her daughter, Sarah, was as beautiful as her son was ugly. Sarah usually waited on me and teased me about taking her out. I had put her off telling her that she was much too young for me, partly because I thought she was teasing me, and partly because her brother was the largest Vietnamese-American I have ever seen. He was only slightly shorter than Yao Ming (the Chinese NBA player) but twice as broad at the shoulders. He wasn't around very often, but when he was he was the first thing you noticed when you walked into the place.

Mrs. Che came over when we entered the door and personally seated us. She came back after the waitress brought our drinks and told me that Sarah was going to really be hurt when she found out that I had a beautiful young girlfriend. Maria blushed at the complement and then turned and raised her eyebrows at me. As Mrs. Che left I explained as best I could to Maria about Sarah and her teasing. Maria told me that it didn't appear to her that Mrs. Che had been teasing. Maria then pointedly asked, "How much more competition do I have out there Sam? Who else do I have to worry about?"

I tried to explain to her that she had no one to worry about, that I was totally devoted to her but she kept on in a half-teasing half-serious query session about my love life. One minute she would say something that I was sure was joking and the next she would look so serious that I wondered. It was stimulating and flattering at the same time. About the time I would think I had answered all of Maria's concerns another course of the meal would arrive delivered by Mrs. Che, who would say something about Sarah that would set Maria off on another tangent. I think Maria was exploring my likes, dislikes and opinions. It was a part of the typical interchange between two lovers who are getting more intimately acquainted with one another.

After the meal I generously tipped Mrs. Che and left my regards to Sarah. I did that as a tease to Maria but was still catching an earful for it as we left the parking lot. Anyone overhearing our one-sided conversation would have shaken their head and thought we had been married for years and years. After the banter died down the remainder of the ride home had Maria fiddling with the presets on my car radio. You know a woman has moved in when she starts selecting her own favorite stations and setting them up on your car radio.

We returned to my apartment well after dark. I half expected Mrs. Alvarez to be there to greet us or at least looking out past her drapes, but her apartment seemed quiet with the lights out as we walked up the stairs. As I opened the door to the apartment, I found a small envelope under the door addressed to Maria. I handed it to her and smiled as I thought she was now even getting mail at my apartment. The note was from Mrs. Alvarez telling Maria that she had gone to a special Spanish language Mass at the Lady of the Perpetual Assumption Church, which was six or seven blocks from the apartment. She said that if we returned before eight o'clock that we were welcome to attend. She stated that many of her friends would be there and that she would be proud to make introductions.

I wasn't sure how to respond. I am not active in any religious group and am not sure I really believe in any god. I know that people tend to make god in their own image, to serve as a moral spokesperson of the communities values and that we have to continually remake him to fit our ever-changing needs. I felt that one of the reasons for many of our wars was the stamp of final authority that the various gods put onto ideas that could be otherwise compromised. I also knew that for Latinos the church often served as a social focal point for the community and was responsible for many good works that would not otherwise be possible. I didn't want Maria to be shut away from that sense of social and cultural belonging. For that reason, I thought we should go. I was only hesitant because I thought that Maria might be very self-conscious about going on the arm of a much older gringo. I laughed when I told her that but she was not amused at all. She acted like I had called her a racist and slung a load of Spanish invectives at me that would have probably hurt like hell had I known what they meant.

We changed and made it to the church in plenty of time for the mass. Now, not only am I not religious, but I'm definitely not Catholic. My parents had raised me Baptist and church as I knew it was much different than mass. I explained this to Maria and she said for me not to worry. She asked that I just watch her and repeat what she did. I would have done that anyway but stopped short of trying to respond to Spanish liturgy with responses that I could hardly pronounce. I found that Catholics did spend much more time on their knees than Baptist and that the priest didn't get nearly as red in the face as Baptist ministers do while preaching. Oh yeah, and they didn't take up an offering; I think that is a sin in the Baptist church.

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