Order Pizza

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 in the drop down, and you immediately choose her. Then you send your order and wait. While you wait, you turn the large statuette on. Then you turn the two small ones on as well.

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.”

“Does that mean you’re not in any rush to get back?”

“Correct.”

“So, do you want to come in and help me eat all this. I have beer in the fridge.”

“Sounds perfect.”

She walks in, her hips swaying and a twinkle of mischief in her grey eyes. You close the front door, point her to the lounge, while you head to the kitchen to get a couple of bottles of beer from the fridge. By the time you get to the lounge, she’s placed the packages on the table and opened both. She takes one of the beers with a smile. You gesture she should help herself, while you take a slice of pizza.

“So, this is your last delivery?” you ask.

“Yes. I work until 10. Others work the late nightshift, but I normally do one last delivery after 10, but only if they’ve asked for me specifically, like you. I was hoping you’d ask me in.”

“Really? Do you do this often, then?”

She smiles, a contemplative smile. She eats one doughball while watching you and then takes a quick drink. When she speaks it’s with great care.

“For some of my chosen clients I’ve been known to do something extra, for the last delivery of the night.”

“Extra?”

“Delivering pizza is not a well-paid job, as I’m sure you can imagine. It only just covers my bills. I’ve been known to offer my favourite clients other things, for a price.”

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying.”

“Probably. You’re a man of the world.” She’s shifting uncomfortably as she speaks. Her smouldering grey eyes never leave yours. “But whatever you ask for costs. Cash. I only take cash.”

That’s a problem. You don’t have any cash. Who carries cash around these days? You indicate as much. What you do ask for is a price list. She runs through handjob, bj, straight sex, and anything kinkier she’s willing to negotiate.

“I’ll take that all in mind, next time I want a pizza.”

“You must order around 10. And if one of my other special clients has already booked me, tough.””

“I understand.”

“Good.”

With no prospect of anything else you get her to sit down and discuss her life. You explain your own job. She laughs her way through the recent rumours about St Perpetua’s. Rumours that sound similar to those you heard when you were a kid and local. She’s soon finished her beer.

“I’d better go,” she tells you. “And don’t forget to rate my delivery.”

Of course. You immediately go to your phone and rate her another 5 out of 5. Now you’ve got your phone in your hand, you have to ask her, “is it ok if I take your photo?”

She smiles and nods. You take a quick photo.

“And another,” she tells you.

As you line up the phone again, she takes hold of the bottom of her top. Then she yanks it up, to reveal her tits. They’re small, and perky, a decent handful, with dark nipples in the middle of her perfectly spherical breasts. You quickly take several snaps before she lowers her top back down.

“Something for you to remember me by and get you ready for next time.”

Then you guide her to the door and watch her drive away. You return to your pizza and doughballs and beer. And when you’ve finished you return to the photos and wank to them.