Speaker 1: It's Monday, September twenty second, in time for your daily fuck.
Speaker 1: The doorbell chimes, a sound that slices through the late
Speaker 1: night quiet of my apartment. My takeout is here. I
Speaker 1: swing the door open, expecting a tired looking student, but
Speaker 1: my breath catches in my throat. The man stating on
Speaker 1: my doorstep is an absolute dream. He's young, with a lean,
Speaker 1: muscular build of a college athlete, a shy, handsome smile
Speaker 1: that doesn't quite reach his intense, dark eyes. My food
Speaker 1: is completely forgotten. He holds out a paper bag delivery
Speaker 1: for George. His raised eyebells are both charming and sexy
Speaker 1: as hell. Georgia, I take the bag, my fingers brush,
Speaker 1: and a jolt of pure inconvenient electricity shoots up my arm.
Speaker 1: He's wearing a faded university teacher and the muscles in
Speaker 1: his forms are clearly defined. I decide in an instant.
Speaker 1: I'm a lot hungrier for him than I was for takeout,
Speaker 1: but I also know I shouldn't be. It doesn't matter anyway.
Speaker 1: He'll turn and leave George behind. Okay, well, thank you.
Speaker 1: My hand is already on the edge of the door,
Speaker 1: ready to retreat into my safe sensible night. He doesn't move.
Speaker 1: Is something wrong? He smirks, You're the hottest George I've
Speaker 1: ever met Georgia. I kicked myself he called me hot.
Speaker 1: That's totally inappropriate. I should tell him off or file
Speaker 1: some complaint thing in the app Of course I won't
Speaker 1: do that. I'm actually thrilled as he's really fucking hot.
Speaker 1: He pauses after I say my name, then nods and
Speaker 1: turns to leave. Was there a moment happening? I watch
Speaker 1: his tight house walk away and I linger with the
Speaker 1: door open a little too long. Maybe you'll come back.
Speaker 1: I want him to come back, and then he does.
Speaker 1: I open the door wide, not even bother making an
Speaker 1: excuse for not having it closed. He has this incredibly huge,
Speaker 1: sheepish look on his face. I'm so sorry, but it
Speaker 1: looks like someone just parked me in. I'm going to
Speaker 1: be stuck for a minute. Oh that's annoying. Tell me
Speaker 1: about it. He walks very close, and I back into
Speaker 1: the townhouse. He leans a hip against the doorframe, a
Speaker 1: casual posture that feels anything but he's not invading my space.
Speaker 1: But he's occupying the threshold. Nice place, by the way,
Speaker 1: is this building usually this quiet. Is he just making
Speaker 1: small talk or is he asking me if I'm alone?
Speaker 1: It's pretty quiet. I clatched the bag of food like
Speaker 1: a shield. Yeah, this is my last delivery of the night.
Speaker 1: He always hoped that the last one is straightforward. You know,
Speaker 1: no complications. He says the word complications. Raw's eyes meet mine.
Speaker 1: My mind races. He's just talking about finding the address
Speaker 1: about parking. Of course he is, but the way he
Speaker 1: said it it felt like a question. I can offer
Speaker 1: my internal monologue as a war between my good sense
Speaker 1: and a rising traitorous heat between my legs. Does he
Speaker 1: mean something by it? Or am I just projecting my
Speaker 1: own sudden, inconvenient lust onto this poor, friendly delivery guy.
Speaker 1: I guess the car is a complication or an opportunity,
Speaker 1: And just as he makes his intentions clear, the sound
Speaker 1: of a car starting up outside breaks the spell. He pauses.
Speaker 1: I want him to walk forward and not back, to
Speaker 1: invite himself in, to ignore the car. But that's crazy.
Speaker 1: I don't even know him. The same war seems to
Speaker 1: be happening in his own mind. As he doesn't move,
Speaker 1: he just looks at me. Finally, he quances back, Yep,
Speaker 1: they're pulling out ups. I'm free to go. This is it.
Speaker 1: The tension is gone, the excuse is gone, the opportunity
Speaker 1: is going. He's just a nice guy who was stuck
Speaker 1: for a moment. He gives me another one of those
Speaker 1: disarming smiles. Well, have a good night, George. He turns
Speaker 1: to leave, and in that moment, as he turns away,
Speaker 1: my carefully constructed wall of sensible behavior crumbles into dust.
Speaker 1: I can't let him go. I don't know if he
Speaker 1: was flirting or not, and I realize I don't care.
Speaker 1: I want him to have been flirting. It's Georgia, I know.
Speaker 1: He laughs, and that does it. He's funny and hot,
Speaker 1: and why the fuck not. It's Friday night and we're
Speaker 1: both free. Opportunity, that's what he called it. Wait, I
Speaker 1: call out. My voice is sounding desperate, even in my
Speaker 1: own ears. He turns around, he doesn't say anything, and
Speaker 1: I lose all my confidence in his silence. Didn't he
Speaker 1: want me? He called me hot, he said this was
Speaker 1: an opportunity. He teached me about my name in a
Speaker 1: way that was almost intimate. Why does he just grab me,
Speaker 1: rip my sweps off and flop me against the door.
Speaker 1: My mind is blank. I have no clever line. The
Speaker 1: app I stammer, feeling like an idiot. It says I
Speaker 1: should offer you a tip. A slow, brilliant smile spreads
Speaker 1: across his face. It's the first truly unambiguous expression I've
Speaker 1: seen from him all night. His words were taunt, but
Speaker 1: his expression was always cagy, like he was playing a game.
Speaker 1: But this expression, it's clear he knows. He steps forward,
Speaker 1: and I stumble back as he crosses the threshold. Does
Speaker 1: it now? I pushed the door shut behind him, The
Speaker 1: click of the bolt, a final, definitive surrender. The bag
Speaker 1: of food slips from my hand and lands with a
Speaker 1: soft thud on the floor. I look at him, my
Speaker 1: heart pounding with the thrill of my own decision. I
Speaker 1: chopped on my knees. I look up. Sorry, I drop
Speaker 1: my food. That's not why you're on your knees. His
Speaker 1: look is everything I've ever wanted, pure desire. He puts
Speaker 1: both his hands on my head, holding it in place.
Speaker 1: As he steps forward. His crotch inches from my face.
Speaker 1: I don't even reply. I reach for his jeans. My
Speaker 1: hand's now steady and sure. I am due his belt.
Speaker 1: I'm zip his fly and pull him free. He's already
Speaker 1: thick and hard. I hold his cog in my hand
Speaker 1: as I look up, he's staring down at me. As
Speaker 1: I slowly take him in in my mouth. He moans
Speaker 1: as I devour him. My mouth is worshipful, my tongue
Speaker 1: an expert. I savor the taste of him, the feel
Speaker 1: of him, the low groans that start deep in his chest.
Speaker 1: I look up and see his head tilted back, his
Speaker 1: eyes squeezed shut, his face a mask of pure pleasure.
Speaker 1: The sight of his complete surrender of my power to
Speaker 1: make him feel this way is all the fuel I need.
Speaker 1: He tangles his hands in my hair, not to command,
Speaker 1: but to anger himself. He's losing control. Fuck, I'm so close.
Speaker 1: I pause for a moment. Shall I stand up and
Speaker 1: bend over? Shall I ask him to fuck me on
Speaker 1: the floor? Fuck it, I'm enjoying getting this nameless delivery
Speaker 1: guy off. I decide to just give him the best
Speaker 1: hip he's ever had. Don't you dare? Come in my mouth?
Speaker 1: I pull back just enough to speak I wanted on
Speaker 1: my face. His eyes snap open, wide, it and wide
Speaker 1: and glazed with lust. He nods, gripping his own cock
Speaker 1: and him seconds he's coming with a loud moment. His hot,
Speaker 1: thick loads splashes across my cheek, my chin, my lips.
Speaker 1: He pins my face with his release, and I look
Speaker 1: up at him through it all, my expression one of
Speaker 1: pure adoration. It's the most beautiful mess I've ever seen.
Speaker 1: He leaves a few minutes later with a final searing
Speaker 1: kiss and not a single word. I stand in my
Speaker 1: entryway for a long time. Tree is gone, my skin cooling,
Speaker 1: my body humming. The food on the floor is completely cold,
Speaker 1: but I've never felt so wonderfully, gloriously warm.