I gave my ass to the PIZZA BOY because I was out of cash

Another lonely night. Once again with my phone in my hand, scrolling without seeing anything, bored of my own company. The silence in the apartment was so heavy that even the hum of the fridge sounded like a reproach. I needed something, anything, to break the monotony. And then, as if my subconscious had screamed for it, I remembered him. The delivery guy. It wasn’t the pizza I wanted, it was the delivery.

I had seen that boy three or four times before. Every time he rang the doorbell, my heart did a silly flip. He was… different. Tall, with broad shoulders that promised strength, tattooed arms that showed through his uniform shirt, and a thick, black beard that framed a smile that should be illegal. He had those dark eyes that seemed to see right through you, as if they knew all your dirty secrets just by looking at you. A guy with a body like that, delivering pizzas. The world is unfair, or maybe perfect, because that way I could see him.

That night, Friday, I was particularly horny. I don’t know if it was the full moon, the heat, or simply the fact that I hadn’t been touched by a man in weeks. I put on some tiny shorts, the kind that advertise more than they cover, and an old, thin t-shirt, no bra, that left my nipples clearly outlined. I ordered the pizza, an extra-large with everything, just to justify the expense, and I waited.

When the doorbell rang, I ran to the mirror. I bit my lips to give them color, messed up my hair a bit more… and opened the door. And there he was. Smiling, with that cardboard box in his hand that smelled like heaven.

“Hi, your order,” he said, with a voice deeper than I remembered.

“Hi,” I replied, trying not to sound like a squeak. I paid by card on the app, so the money part was done. But then came the moment for the tip. And that’s where I executed my genius plan (or my desperate slut plan, however you want to see it).

I opened my wallet and examined it dramatically. “Oh, no,” I sighed, frowning. “Look at my scatterbrain, I think I’m out of cash. I’m so sorry.”

He shrugged, still friendly. “Don’t worry, it’s cool.”

But I didn’t want him to leave. Not this time. The air in my doorway was charged, and I could feel the pulse in my veins.

“Hey…” I said, lowering my voice and biting my lower lip. “Are you sure I can’t… compensate you another way?” I didn’t take my eyes off him. I let my gaze travel from his eyes to his mouth, then down to the bulge starting to form in his work pants, and back up.

I didn’t have to say more. I guess my tiny shorts and the t-shirt showing my hard nipples gave me away. His smile transformed. It was no longer the professional smile of the delivery guy; it became the hungry smile of a man who sees easy prey. His dark eyes shone with instant understanding.

“What other way?” he asked, and his voice was now a hoarse whisper, full of intent.

Instead of answering, I took a step back, opening the door a little wider. A clear invitation. He didn’t think twice. He came in, closed the door behind him, and left the pizza box on the entryway table. The sound of the latch closing was the start of everything.

Without preamble, he grabbed me by the waist and pushed me against the wall, right next to the door. His body was a wall of heat and muscle against mine. His mouth found mine in a kiss that was nothing tender. It was wild, possessive, full of tongue and teeth. He tasted of cheap pizza and pure desire. One of his hands grabbed my hair, pulling a little, while the other roamed my back, went down to my ass and squeezed it hard, sinking his fingers into my flesh.

“What a fucking tease you are,” he growled between kisses, and that word, in his mouth, electrified me.

I went down, desperate, unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants. His cock sprang free, and my God. It was like him: huge, thick, with prominent veins and the head already wet. It smelled of his sweat, of fabric, of man. A primal scent that lit me up like a match. I couldn’t wait. I knelt right there, on the entryway floor, and took it all in my mouth.

He moaned, placing his hands on the wall above my head. “Like that, baby, like that… suck it like a good slut.” I obeyed, choking on his size, feeling it throb on my tongue. My hands caressed his balls, which were tense and heavy. The sound of my mouth working on his cock and his low grunts filled the silence of the apartment. It didn’t last long. With a guttural moan, he came in my mouth, hot and thick, and I swallowed it all, not leaving a drop.

But that was clearly just the appetizer. He recovered in seconds, lifted me from the floor as if I weighed nothing, and carried me to the sofa. “My turn,” he said, with that wolfish smile again. He sat me on top of him, straddling him, and I, without wasting a second, pulled down my shorts and thong and impaled myself on him in one movement.

A scream escaped me. He filled me completely, stretching me, reaching places I didn’t even know existed. I started to move, to ride his cock like a woman possessed, like a mare in heat. My tits bounced freely, my nails dug into his shirt. He watched me intently, with those dark eyes devouring me, while his hands gripped my hips to guide my movements, to push me down harder, to fuck me rougher.

“You like this cock, eh, slut?” he asked me, and I could only moan, nodding. “Say it.”

“I love it… I love your cock, daddy,” I panted, and that drove him wild.

After a while, he flipped me over roughly. “I want your ass,” he announced, and a shiver of anticipation and fear ran through me. I had never been taken there. I had always been curious, but never dared.

“But… I’ve never…” I tried to protest, but he put me on all fours on the sofa cushions.

“Relax,” he ordered, spitting into his hand and rubbing it on his cock, still slick from my juices. “You’ll see it’s better.”

I felt the tip of his head pressing against my little hole, which was so, so tight. He pushed. The pain was sharp, intense, and I screamed. But he didn’t stop. “Breathe, baby,” he told me, with a hand on my back, and he kept pushing, slowly but relentlessly, until he was all the way inside.

And then… then the pain transformed. Suddenly, it was a feeling of absolute fullness, of being possessed in a completely new way. When he started to move, to slide his cock in and out of my ass, I swear I saw stars. It was a delicious pain, a forbidden pleasure that drove me insane. I moaned like a madwoman, asking for more, harder, deeper. He grabbed my hips, marking my skin with his fingers, and the sound of our bodies slamming together was obscene.

“This ass is mine now,” he growled, and I, in my delirium, believed him. No one had ever fucked me like that. With that mix of roughness and… I don’t know, of knowing exactly what he was doing. He was breaking me and at the same time showing me a new universe of pleasure.

The orgasm that hit me was brutal, a tsunami that made me shake and scream his name, with his cock still inside my ass. He, feeling me clench in convulsions, let out a roar and came too, filling me with his hot cum.

We collapsed on the sofa, panting, sweaty, a complete mess. His cock, now soft, slipped out of my ass, and I felt his semen trickling down my thighs. He lay back beside me, with a hand still possessing my buttock.

“Fuck,” he said at last, breaking the silence. “That was…”

“Incredible,” I finished, my voice hoarse.

He got up, pulled up his pants, and adjusted his shirt. I was still there, trembling, feeling his mark on every part of my body.

“Next pizza is on me,” he said with a mischievous smile, picking up his cap from the floor.

“Will there be a next time?” I asked, almost pleading.

He came close, tilted my chin, and gave me a quick but intense kiss. “Of course, baby. And next time… we’ll try something else.” He put on his cap and walked out the door, leaving me there, on the sofa, with my ass sore, my legs shaky, the smell of sex and pizza floating in the air, and the certainty that I had just had the best fuck of my life. And that, indeed, sometimes porn clichés are the best.