Toy Collection. Part 1.

My name is Max, I'm 24 years old, and yes, you could call me a rich kid. I party a lot and work very little. I'm handsome, I can say that without false modesty. I have no problems with the opposite sex; my problem is time—I can't be there for everyone. Picking up practically any chick is no problem for me; they spread their legs and open their mouths on their own. But it's gotten boring, damn it, that happens too. I hardly feel any emotional orgasm, only a physical one. And I'm only 24, what will happen next? With these thoughts, I was sitting at the bar on my second cocktail.

"Planning to order anything else?"—a quiet voice of a waitress sounded near

my ear.

I looked at the petite blonde with small but neat, perky breasts, imagined her bouncing on top of me. "No, I don't want to," I said to myself.

"No, I'm not planning to, bring the check."

I left two thousand as a tip and went outside, approached my German AMG "steed" and opened the door slightly. Girls passing by smiled flirtatiously; with 90% certainty, I could have seated them in the car and roughly stretched their cute little mouths over my cock. But I wasn't in the mood. There were dozens of messages in various chats from different people looking to meet up or inviting me somewhere. At home, I collapsed on the sofa, turned on heavy music in the background, and got glued to my phone for a few hours. I got hungry and decided to order pizza, paid extra for rush delivery, and went to take a shower. Standing under the shower, I remembered the waitress and regretted not trying to drag her off for a quick fuck. I definitely needed to invite someone over for the night; I was starting to feel like fucking. Putting on clean shorts over my naked body, I stepped out of the shower. Wet footprints remained on the floor behind me.Soon, the video intercom rang. On the device's screen, I saw a young girl in a cap and a pizza delivery uniform. I pressed the button, and the gate opened; the girl slowly walked across the property towards the house, looking around. I opened the door and met her on the porch.

"Hello, your order,"—the girl looked at me and froze in place, averted her gaze to the side, then to my bare torso, into my eyes, and back to the side.

"Hello,"—I smiled and took a step towards her.

The girl no longer looked me in the eyes, held out the box:

"That'll be 1560 rubles..."

I looked at this young girl, how old was she, looked about 18, and her height, well, I'd say 155-160 cm max. Reddish curls of hair peeked out from under her cap. I handed her a five-thousand ruble bill.

"Um... do you have anything smaller?"

"No, I don't,"—I tried to catch her eyes.

The girl got flustered, looked around as if searching for an ATM on my property.

"Oh come on, forget it, screw the change. Aren't you hungry yourself? Maybe keep me company?"

The girl confidently looked me in the eyes. Wow, such big gray eyes.

"No, I'm not hungry..."

"Just leave this job, keep me company. I'm alone."

"I'm happy for you,"—she turned around and headed for the gate.

"Hey, wait,"—I caught up with her and stood in front of her.

"I need to work..."

"How much is your day worth?"

The girl furrowed her brows in confusion.

"I don't understand."

"Well, how much do you earn on your best day?"

She thought for a bit.

"Well... around three thousand..."

"You already have three, I left you the change."

After hesitating for three seconds, the girl-courier confidently walked around me and approached the gate.

"Fifty,"—I shouted.

The girl stopped, looked at me.

"What fifty?"

"I'll give you fifty thousand, keep me company, it's not like I'm asking for much."

For half a minute, she silently looked at me, digesting what she'd heard.

"Is this some kind of joke, prank, or what?"

"No, come on, I'm just really fucking bored, I have money, it's no problem at all, will you sell me your workday for 50,000 rubles???"

"I... I don't know... this is some kind of nonsense."

It wasn't hard to guess she really needed that money. For some reason, she looked at her shoes, then at the Mercedes parked by the house, then at me, at my bare feet.

"The pizza is still hot, it won't taste good when it cools down, and yeah, I'm terribly hungry."

"Yesss, damn, yessss,"—I screamed mentally. We went into the house, the girl took off her sneakers and became even a bit shorter, I led her to the living room, showed her where to wash her hands.

"By the way, my name is Max!"

"I thought so!"—the girl took off her vest with the pizza place emblem.

"What do you mean?"—I didn't understand.

"Well, that name suits you the most! I'm Anya!"

"Very nice, Anya! Well, it's not good to eat dry food, maybe some wine, juice, tea, coffee?"

"Coffee, if possible."

"Of course,"—I turned on the coffee machine, moved a small table closer to the sofa.

We both dug into the pizza and finished it fairly quickly, I brought us coffee.

"May I ask how old you are?"—I asked.

"And for what purpose are you asking?"

"I want to know if I was right when I thought you were 17."

Anya laughed.

"No, you weren't, I'm a bit older."

"18?"

"Well, just a little bit more."

"20, maybe?"

The girl burst into loud, but such a cute, infectious laugh.

"What, after 18 comes 20?"

"Ah, I see, so 19 then, you wouldn't guess."

"It's all because of my height. You have a beautiful house, who do you live with?"

"Alone."

"What do you mean? Renting or what?"

"Why renting, this is my house, I live alone."

"Oh right, for you it's no problem to pay a courier fifty thousand just for company."

"Well, yeah, you could say I'm lucky in life, my parents aren't nobody, and I've got a head on my shoulders, money makes money."

"And how much longer do I need to be with you for the promised money?"

"Damn, that's not interesting, if you want to leave—leave,"—I took out the money, counted out 50K, and handed it to the girl.

"This is all very strange, my mom will have a lot of questions about where I got such money."

Well, I'm definitely not going to work today, how do you entertain yourself here?

"There's a pool, a hammam, a sauna, any of that interest you?"

"Wow, that's something. The pool would be cool, but unfortunately, I don't have a swimsuit."

"Well, you can swim like that!"

"Uh-huh, that's not quite right..."

"What's the big deal, go swim, if you don't want me to see you, I'll stay here."

"And you wouldn't be interested at all in how I'd be swimming there naked?"

"Damn, Anya, what's with the kindergarten, of course I'd be interested, you're quite an attractive girl, with appetizing curves, and yes, I would like to see you without clothes."

Our eyes met.

"Then let's go..."

I led the girl through two rooms to the pool.

"Wow, it's huge, awesome,"—the girl pulled off her gray shorts and red t-shirt, unclasped her bra, and taking off her panties, dove into the water.

I managed to get a glimpse of her slender body from the back. She will definitely be mine today, I'm sure of it. I took off my shorts and also dove into the water. Anna swam and dove quite well; I could barely keep up with her. We played around for a long time, splashed each other; she was always on the move, and I couldn't get a good look at her. Finally, she stopped in a corner of the pool, where it wasn't deep, and the water was just above her chest.

"Tired?"—I asked, swimming towards her.

"Yeah, a little."

I took a step and wrapped my arms around her waist; the girl flinched but didn't push me away. I pulled her close, feeling the firmness of her breasts against me. She didn't raise her eyes, looking somewhere at my neck. I ran my palm along her back, slid my hand into her hair, cupped the back of her head, and pulled her towards me. She was ready, she was waiting for this kiss and instantly reciprocated. I lifted her by the thighs, and she wrapped her legs around me; it was very easy to hold her in the water. My champion was already standing at full attention, as if helping my hands hold her up. I lifted her and, raising her out of the water, sat her on the edge of the pool, spread her legs apart, and my tongue went to work on her lips and clitoris. A thin strip of reddish hair adorned her white pubic mound. She moaned loudly, sometimes squeezing my head with her legs. At one point, she jerked, froze for a second, and let out a loud exhale accompanied by a moan. Her legs trembled; she was coming. I climbed out of the pool, laid the girl on all fours on a wicker lounger, and entered her. For the first time in a long while, I felt moral satisfaction from what was happening. Yes, she was a beauty, but not with silicone tits and pumped-up lips; her labia didn't smell of perfume, her butt was a bit plump for her body and height, but maybe that's exactly what gave me emotional pleasure. We changed positions; I lay on the lounger, and she sat on top of me. With closed eyes, Anya rode me, and I squeezed her plump tits with pink nipples. After she got tired, I laid her on her back and, spreading her legs as wide as possible, entered her again. I felt I was about to come and, pulling out my tool, released a stream of cum onto her stomach.

She stayed the night, but before that, we had sex again in the kitchen. And already in bed, I talked her into anal sex. In that regard, she was clearly unprepared; it seemed painful for her, but I was enjoying her tight hole. And so we fell asleep with spots of cum on our tired bodies.

In the morning, I drove her home, and only when I drove away from her house did I realize I hadn't even asked for her phone number.

"Ah, whatever,"—I said, running a yellow light.

*""