Order Pizza and more sex

Takeaway. And you know precisely what takeaway you want. It’s late enough after all. Late enough for a takeaway and extras.

You head straight to the Local Pizza app, pick pepperoni pizza and doughballs, and then use the code Stella gave you to choose the deliverer. Stella’s name is on it, and you immediately choose her. Then you send your order and wait. While you wait, you check your cash, then turn the large statuette on.

Thirty minutes later the doorbell rings. Stella is standing there with a big smile on her face, and the two boxes in her arms.

“Hello, John, here’s me, your chosen deliverer, with your pizza and doughballs. And do you know what else,” she leans in as if conspiratorial, “this is my last delivery of the night.”

“I hoped as much. Are you available for extra?”

“As long as it’s at least as much as last time. I should warn you Saturday is my busiest night. I’ve had several requests for my last delivery. I chose you.”

“You chose me?”

“Yes, because you’ll be the most fun. Not the most lucrative, unfortunately. So, you’d better make it worth my while.”

You hold up the wodge of cash. You and Stella swap burdens and you shut the door while Stella counts the money. Then you escort her into the living room. You place the pizza and doughballs on the central table. By this time Stella has finished counting.

“Is that enough?”

“Oh, yes, that’s enough. But it still means picking you was a bad business decision. In every other way it’s a good one, just a bad business decision.”

“Men will pay more?”

“You know, for kinks, or just for me. One guy gets me to dress up as a student of St Perpetua’s. How does that sound to you.”

“I don’t have a school uniform.” {if Harem > 0} And you’ve fucked genuine girls in the school uniform, and you intend to again. Putting Stella in the uniform is less exciting. {else} And you’re already fucking Brianna, who you could put in a genuine school uniform whenever you want. {endif}

“Shame. But if you provide the uniform, I’ll model it for you. For a cost.”

“I’d rather see you naked.”

Her grey eyes sparkle. “Well, you’ve already paying for that.”

She takes off her cap and throws it at you. You catch it, put it to one side and then sit down on the sofa, to enjoy the show. She starts to sway. “Any music? I perform better with music.”

You fumble with the Spotify app on the TV. Find appropriate music, while her eyes sparkle in anticipation. You haven’t really used the app much, so it is full of the latest chart, which you know nothing about. Quick, think of a song. A song that is appropriate for a woman to strip to. Your mind is blank. Your knowledge of music isn’t good enough. How about Tom Jones “You can leave your hat on”? The lyrics are at least appropriate.

She laughs when you pick it. “I’ve already removed my hat.”

When the music starts, she begins to sway. Supple, erotic, her hips slide back and forth. When the two beats hit, she thrusts in time to them. During the first verse she gathers the bottom of the t-shirt and raises the hem to reveal her flat stomach. In the second verse she pulls it all the way off to reveal her bra-less tits, as perfect as the last time you saw them. Next, she unbuckles her shorts. When she thrusts to the beat this time the shorts jiggle and slide down her long legs revealing her thong and her thighs.

You can’t help yourself. When she wiggles closer you reach out and grasp her. The dance is broken by your passionate kiss. While tongue twine, your hands reach out to rill her hard nipples between your fingers. Then you reach over, grab her cap which is on the sofa beside you, and jam it back onto her head.

“You can leave your hat on,” you tell her. “But you’re still wearing too much.”

The song has stopped. The dance has stopped. Stella removes her shoes, then the shorts which are still around her ankles. Finally, she slips her thong off to reveal her shaved, slim pussy. Still looks too small for your cock. But it easily took it last time. While she does that, you undo your trousers and push them down with your boxers. Your dick is already hard from the dance.

Stella helps remove trousers and boxers. She kneels between your legs, reaches out and grasps your shaft. Then she runs her tongue along its length, before popping the head into her mouth. There she kisses, sucks and licks the head, slowly letting more and more of it in. Saliva bubbles down the shaft. She only pauses in her ministrations of your shaft to rub the salvia in. While she does that, she turns her mouth to your balls, enveloping each one in her lips individually, running her tongue over the wrinkled flesh. Then she’s back trying to take as much of your shaft down her throat as she can. You can see her throat bulge as your dick slides down. Her tongue continues to lap your balls, as her throat spasms around your shaft. You’ve seen such acts in porn. You never thought you’d experience it in person. You never realised how pleasurable it was. Meanwhile saliva gushes from her mouth. And her face reddens with her effort. And all the time her grey eyes are fixed on yours, and all you can see in them is utter pleasure. Even when she starts to choke, you see only pleasure.

She can’t hold your dick that deep forever. Eventually she pulls off, gaging for air, spluttering her joy.

“That’s impressive. But I want what I’m paying for.”

You stand and help her to her feet. Then you guide her to lie on her back on one of the sofa’s armrests, head propped by one of the cushions, legs either side, pussy at the edge. Perfect for you to line up your cock and slide in.

Her throat was heaven. Her pussy is paradise. Both of you groan in ecstasy as you penetrate her hot, tight hole. You push in slowly, but you push all the way in. And when you’re fully embedded you pause, to luxuriate in the grip on your shaft, on the heat that is boiling your cock, on the slickness that is embracing it.

“There’s a couple of clients who are bigger,” Stella states her eyes rolling with her joy, her attempt at looking at you clashing with her pleasure. “But there are none that are better. God, there’s not a cock better than yours. There can’t be. There can’t be.”

“You want real pleasure?” you ask.

“Do it. Do it.” Her reply is more pleading than answer.

You give her what she wants. Pull out, thrust back in. Pull out, thrust back in. All the way out. All the way in. Her pussy had quickly accommodated your girth. When out it gapes ready for you to re-enter. And it’s not satisfied until your fully buried.

Her moans quickly descend into incoherence. They quickly rise in pitch. Her arms cling to the side of the armrest, as if she’s fearful she’ll fall off. Her body quivers with each thrust. Her tits bounce. Her legs spasm. She can’t keep her gaze on you. You see the whites of her eyes. Then she screws them shut as her orgasm strikes.

Her first orgasm. You’re not letting her get away with one. The spasming of her insides is no sign for you to relent. You drive yourself harder, faster, in and out of her. She doesn’t have time to recover from her first orgasm when you spark off her second. And this is wilder. Its more animalistic. Her voice cracks with her joy. Her body is fully wrapped in her joy. Her hips buck with each thrust, each wave of her ecstasy.

And you can’t hold on anymore. One last thrust to her cervix and you explode. You grunt as you fill her womb. For what feels like an eternity, but is only a minute or two, you both are motionless as your cock pumps your seed into her. Even when that little motion finishes you can’t move, you can’t withdraw. Only when she finally opens her eyes and looks at you with exhausted bliss do you finally find the energy to step back. She watches as your slowly deflating cock slips out.

“I normally don’t like my clients to cum inside me.” Her voice is raw with her earlier screaming. It quavers on the edge of collapse. “But in your case, I’m going to make an exception. How are you so good? How are you so good?”

“I’m a sex god.”

“I can believe that.”