Dear Penthouse,

unlike most of your letters claiming they never thought they would ever have a reason to write, I had an experience with an ending so odd, I just had to share it.

I am a sophomore at a large Midwestern University, working my way through it as a full-time pizza delivery driver. I’ve had several encounters have written about, but this one happened after work. I deliver for a huge national chain which only offers carry-out and delivery. I’m very good at my job and so I have a schedule pretty much exactly as I want. Since I currently live at home and commute from about 40 minutes away, I scheduled all my classes for Monday, Wednesday and Friday with the last ending around three p.m ... I work those same days shortly after school is done plus Saturday until closing, when I usually wind up on mop duty. Sunday I come in and work the dinner shift, which is busy due to the dorms not serving dinner. On Sunday, I stay until I hit 40 hours.

I make enough from tips and commission on a nightly basis that I was able to bank my actual paychecks, or most of them, for quite some time. An older best friend of mine’s husband decided to sell his Harley Sportster and upon learning of it, I promptly cashed in the accumulated checks and bought it. It might seem like I am digressing, and maybe I am, but I could digress even more if I started recounting some of the stories involving this “older” woman. But the pertinent part is I owned a beautiful, decked out Sportster that Autumn as school was getting underway.

Why this becomes relevant is that October my Volkswagon Bug caught fire while I was at a party, likely due to foul play, likely while engaging in something else about which I could have written a letter to you. As things were, I had a friend who offered to trade me a Ford Mustang and half interest in a mobile home for the Harley. As much as I liked the bike, I didn’t have the cash to replace the car and I was really getting tired of driving the company delivery car, since driving it meant no commission. I made about $40 a night in commission, which compared to the weekly check of around $125 was a nice amount of money. Plus, the weather was turning cold and I did not look forward to freezing my ass off on my commute. So we made the deal, but the Mustang needed a couple of things fixed on it and we scheduled the trade to be completed on the upcoming Friday. Friday came and after classes, I headed over to his apartment to be informed the Mustang wasn’t going to be done until the next day, so my friend lent me his new Escort for the day.

As usual, I closed and was up front sweeping when the phone rang. No one in the office decided it was worth answering, so I picked it up just to end the ringing. I told them, “Sorry, we’re closed,” but the caller didn’t seem to care about pizza. The cords on these phones were long enough so someone could be using them and still reach just about every part of the front end, so I held the phone in place with a shoulder and kept on sweeping. The girl just kept on rambling on about not much of anything and I was getting bored, but we had a policy where you couldn’t hang up on callers unless they started uttering profanities. I tried to say good-bye a few times, but she just wouldn’t stop and at one point, I actually started worrying she might be suicidal. The phone conversation had turned from me worrying she might do something to harm herself to realizing she was looking for a hookup. At that point, I was finishing up mopping the front end and paid a bit more attention to what she was saying and actually responding to her. Somehow she talked me into coming to her when I got off work, which by then was only a few minutes away, and make sure she was okay.

I pulled up in front of the dorm she directed me to and saw someone sitting on the retaining wall adjoining the front steps. Looking out the passenger window, I saw them get up and walk toward me silhouetted by the floodlight behind them. She thin or fat and walked right up to the passenger door, giving me a good look at her curves. She turned as she opened the door and got in and that was the first I saw of her face. I was pretty picky about women I dated or slept with and she wasn’t quite up to my standard. I’m not sure how I got so picky, maybe because I was somewhat shy until I got to know someone and figured only the ones I considered really good looking were worth taking the risk of being rejected. I doubt I got rejected much more than guys that would fuck anything, but at least my successes were worth it.

When I finally saw her, I wasn’t interested in bedding her, and after driving no more than a few blocks, I was positive she wasn’t going to harm herself; well unless she didn’t get some sex. I was trying to think of how to get rid of her as she was rambling on in a one-sided conversation. When she asked me about the car, I said it was a friend’s, and then it occurred to me where I could get rid of this girl. My friend - and his roommate - would fuck about anything, at least from some of the stories they had told and girls I’d seen them with. So I told Sherry I needed to return the car to my friend (even though it was around 4 a.m. at this point.)

I got to my friend Ed’s place and his apartment was sort of in a corner and the parking lot was packed anywhere close to it. Thinking about double parking or maybe sliding into a cramped space, I pulled up into the corner and before I realized why, Sherry asked which apartment it was and jumped out and headed between cars toward it. I hurried, backed up, found an actual parking space and got out.

The door to the apartment was not quite closed when I got there, and as I entered the apartment, I saw a shadow get up from beside a sofa and head down the hallway. A guy got up from the sofa and asked me if I knew what had happened. I told Cecil I had a pretty good idea when we heard a shout from the bedroom.

“What the Hell!”

I headed that way and met Sherry coming back down the hallway. Upon reaching the bedroom door, I quietly tapped and asked if he was all right.

Ed had me come on in and was getting up in the light of a bedside lamp.

He asked, “Who the Hell was that?”

“Some girl I picked up after work,” I said.

Shaking his head, Ed said, “That was a surprise. I go to bed and the only other people in the place are two guys. I wake up and someone is sucking my dick...”

I almost had to laugh but asked, “Who’s the other guy?”

“Cecil’s boss. He’s been painting apartments with him and they started hanging out.”

At that time, Cecil came down the hall from the living room.

“You won’t believe what just happened,” Cecil said. Ed and I just looked at him pretty much guessing exactly what happened. “She just sucked me off.”

Once again, I explained how she came to be there and then went on to ask about our trade. We talked for just a little bit until Cecil said, “Well, you sure know how to close a deal,” at which point we all started laughing and joking about the absurd situation.

We were interrupted when Sherry came down the hall wrapped in a comforter the guys sleeping on the couches in the living room had been using.

“Can you guys keep it down?” Sherry asked. “Mark is having trouble concentrating,” then spun around and started back toward the living room.

By this time a few lights were on. Cecil asked, “Hey can we get a good look at you?”

Sherry pivoted around again, walked up to us and dropped the blanket, the spun around again and paraded back to the living room. She was a redhead and the carpets matched the drapes. We burst out laughing again from the stunt, then tried to quiet down so she and Mark couldn’t blame us for any performance issues.

We went back to talking while trying to ignore what was going on between them. At some point, Cecil left and I’m not sure if he joined them in the living room or went to his own bedroom. Ed and I talked about the trade and stuff until I needed to beg off and use the bathroom.

Midstream urinating, there was a soft knock on the door, and I doubted it was a guy. Sure enough, it was Sherry and she just came on in, sat down and let it flow. She wasn’t quite at crotch level, but close enough and reached out for me. I figured “what the hell” and let her fish my cock out of my pants. Whatever she lacked in looks, she made up for in ability. She was doing a pretty decent job of deep throating me and was trying to fondle my balls, so I finished unfastening my pants and let them drop so she wasn’t raking anything across a zipper.