Pizza delivery person
So you go about your life and have no idea what a wonderful service exists — "Pizza for delivery." The "pizza" filling is distinguished by particular sophistication, so to speak, to suit any taste. You place an order, you can even do it by phone. But if this service is new to you, it's no trouble to drop by the office. Friendly staff, a cozy reception area, colorful catalogs, a cup of coffee with croissants on the house while you choose your "toppings."
Who would deliver the pizza didn't matter to me, whether a Black guy or a Mexican, and both, credit where it's due, have great butts. But I paid special attention to the filling. Today I took a day off — I called
work and said I was busy with personal matters. The whole morning was dedicated to rest and exercise, so that by the time the pizza delivery person arrived, I could fully devote myself to tasting. When the doorbell rang, I had just stepped out of the shower. Throwing on a robe, I opened the door.A swarthy guy in uniform stood on the threshold. Clearly the boy had Mexican roots, I thought, looking him over. Brown eyes, black hair, olive skin, sensual lips. Then my gaze moved to his hands. He was holding a bright box. My order.
"Come in!" — and I nodded towards the dining room, noting to myself that his hands were very beautifully shaped. However, letting the boy go ahead, all my attention focused on his butt.
"Stand still!" — the whisper sounded like an order, convincing, and didn't provoke the slightest desire to disobey. One hand gave a slight push in the back, forcing him to bend forward, and the other took a proprietary grip on his right buttock.
The boy arched, sticking his butt out, and I couldn't resist and began actively massaging it. Pleasure overwhelmed me, I gave free rein to my desires — what I could do with this boy. And I didn't bother with sentiment — I wanted more — right here and now — and I wasn't about to deny myself.
I pressed my whole body against him, rubbing my breasts and pubic area slightly against him. The kid reacted with a noisy intake of breath from his young lungs and slightly tensed nipples. I could state the latter with complete confidence, as I was standing, holding him with my arms, and, of course, not idle — the buttons of his nipples were sticking out thanks to my efforts. Twisting them, I might even have been hurting him.
You can do anything you want with an aroused man. Running my hand into his thick, wavy hair, I pulled his head towards me. With his head thrown back in an uncomfortable position, he must have felt insecure. Just what was needed. I was the one in charge. Besides, it was all paid for.
"Get undressed!"
It seemed my dear pizza delivery guy didn't believe what he heard. He looked at me as if expecting me to say it was a joke. And who do they even hire for this job, I thought, slightly annoyed. You've made your bed, now lie in it.
"Well, quickly!" — And since he kept staring at me, I slapped him. The guy's eyes clouded over. Oh, he's into the Scene! Then it was unclear why he was being difficult. Wanting to show him who was boss, I continued holding his hair, keeping him in an uncomfortable position. Glancing at me over his shoulder warily, he still pulled down his pants. It was pleasant to discover tiny red thongs there, for some reason. It took him longer to take off his shirt, I think all his thoughts were in the future.
"What are you dawdling for, you wretch!" — here I couldn't hold back and hit the boy on the buttock. The sound was so sharp that I wanted to spank him properly.
I was filled with such strong emotions, and aggression was not the least of them. I wanted to scream, growl, moan, I wanted to hear the same sounds from this boy. I wanted to hurt and please at the same time. And while my palm wasn't tired, I continued delivering blows, now to one, now to the other buttock.
The handprint had long since stopped showing on the skin — this, all so wonderful and firm butt was red. Finally, I got tired. And tenderness awoke in me. The feelings that had raged earlier subsided somewhat, and a certain peacefulness replaced the aggression.
"Look at me!" — I turned his face towards me, as much as was possible in his uncomfortable position.
The boy's eyes looked so pleading that I decided to myself I wouldn't be too cruel with him. Overall, he gave the impression of a naive and pure young man. Strange, even.
"Relax!" — I said to him, to which he smiled again. "And, come here!"
I let go of his hair, so pleasant to the touch, walked over, and sat on a comfortable chair and stretched out my legs, nodding my head to beckon him over. While he walked towards me, a mass of possible scenarios for further developments must have been running through his head. But, seeing my gaze, and remembering his poor butt (he winced at this, probably the skin was still burning from the blows), he got down on his knees and raised his head in a silent question, "Did I do it right?"
.
I raised my hand to adjust my hair, he squeezed his eyes shut, expecting a blow. Fear on his handsome, masculine face. It was sweet to watch him, a man, be somewhat afraid of me, a woman. After all, any teenager could easily hurt me. Physical strength. But what is it against the strength of spirit, the strength of determination?
Somehow naturally his head bowed to my feet. I didn't need to force him to do this. Beautiful female legs in absolutely all men evoke one desire — to admire, at least from a distance, to touch them, and not everyone realizes that they want more — adoration. My dear pizza delivery guy had tender and affectionate lips.
His touches were exciting, so light, pleasant, and weightless. Touching my skin, his hands seemed not just to caress, they worshipped. Kissing the toes on my feet, he slipped his nimble little tongue between them, causing new bouts of moans from me. Discovering such a sensitive spot, the guy began to improvise, now running his fingers there, pressing slightly on the area, touching which drew a muffled sigh from my lips, now putting his tongue back into action.
And this arched my body in a paroxysm of trembling, a wonderful harbinger of orgasm.
I bit my lips. Our eyes often met and what he saw there seemed to inspire him to new experiments. His gaze distracted me from my own sensations.
"Close your eyes!" — I ordered, but the boy was peeking, I noticed this when I pulled a clothespin from the pocket of my robe, lost there from the last time I was being naughty. I brought the clamp close to his nipple — the scaredy-cat moved aside. This wonderful little button had an amazing ability to give the male member a pronounced erection.
Right there, in the dining room, I kept ropes in one of the lower drawers of the table. Taking out a long coil, I tied his hands behind his back at the elbows, and then at the wrists. Thinking it over, I decided to tie his legs above the knees as well. A light push — and he lost his balance and fell to the floor, looking at me with expectation and some wariness.
To be tied up — is to be owned. Of course, it's wonderful when a slave obeys and carries out all my orders, but… A slave will always know that at any moment he can step out of the Scene, out of the game. Oh, how different the sensations of the helpless are. At least for me — it is so. In a state of helplessness, sensations are multiplied tenfold! Fear and excitement, submission and hopelessness.
Hearing the boy's excited breathing, seeing his body taut like a string, realizing his helplessness and understanding — he ABSOLUTELY belongs to me, and nothing can change that. Only I, a fragile and elegant woman, can decide how long he remains tied up and in what position. To see a man completely subject to my will — well, isn't that worth spending ten minutes on bondage?!
I took out a candle and lit it.
A minute passed until there was enough melted wax. The boy was now watching with interest. In his opinion, apparently, the candle posed no danger. The very first drops made him squirm and change his frivolous attitude towards such an innocent-looking object — a candle. A funny kid. So he wouldn't get in my way, and even more so, so he wouldn't lean away from the dripping wax, I pressed him to the floor with my foot.
The boy bit his plump little lip, and it was clear he was trying his hardest to endure. Light, barely audible moans escaped from time to time. But, he endured. How good that he was silent and didn't beg for mercy — there wouldn't have been any. And he understood that. What a clever boy! It hurts, I know it hurts him, and this opened us up to new sensations. Now his gaze didn't leave me for a moment, it seemed he didn't want to miss any of the wonders he got to experience today. His pupils narrowed, mine, on the contrary, dilated. I knew this for sure…
Freeing the boy from his bonds, I allowed him to lie on the floor. He had earned this rest. Placing my foot right on the causal spot, I pressed and watched the reaction. Not the one in his cute little thongs, but the reaction of the organism as a whole. He already understood that soon I would allow him to come, and now he was simply consumed with the desire to get satisfaction. Hooking the front of his thongs with my toe, I pulled them aside and began playing with his cock, periodically slapping it with my foot. He shuddered comically, and this turned me on even more. His lips whispered almost inaudibly:
"Please…"
I continued playing, lightly running my foot along his excited member.
"I'm asking you, well, please…"
And then, placing my foot on his face, I allowed him to masturbate. Soon that seemed too little for me, and I ordered him to open his mouth and plunged my foot right into his greedily opened lips,
"Suck, baby, and faster, faster jerk off, come on!" — I commanded, and then he began masturbating intensely. And in a minute he was ready to discharge.
The kid came successfully.
"Oh, how naughty," — I scolded him, in response he smiled.
"Lick it up!"
The boy didn't believe what he heard, but he had no strength to resist. And since practically all the semen was in his hand, licking it up was simple. Although my floor is always clean.
I tried not to miss a single moment. It's a subtle humiliation — forcing a man to lick up his own semen. He slightly opened his mouth. For a moment he froze. It was clear that internally he was resisting, but couldn't disobey, because there was strength and desire in my voice. This duality tore at him. His being strove for obedience, but his mind insisted otherwise. All his thoughts were written on his face, and when he overcame that internal barrier, then, bringing his hand with the semen to his mouth, he looked with a certain mixture of pride and defiance straight into my eyes…
Scarcely had the door closed behind the boy, I didn't even have time to stretch sweetly, lying on the sofa in the living room, when the doorbell rang. A pizza delivery person stood on the threshold.
"Pizza for delivery! Toppings included!" — and the delivery person looked at me meaningfully. In the open collar of the uniform I saw a collar. Without saying a word, I went to the dining room, where the unopened pizza box still lay on the table. Exactly with pizza! But the house address was different.
October 2007.
Author's e-mail: аn_v_f@mаil.ru