Special Delivery

I was sitting home on a Saturday night watching romantic comedies. It wouldn’t have been such a problem if I hadn’t done it every Saturday night for the last two months. The first three weeks, it really wasn’t a problem. There was a decrease in events in the city being that there was a wave of freak storms in the Atlantic. The fourth week, it was okay because it had been girl’s night in, plus we met the sexiest pizza delivery man EVER. I think his name was Jerome or Tone or something. By the time the second month rolled around, I was getting to my last straw.

Of course, it was a Saturday night and I was doing what I’ve learned to do best. Watch romantic comedies, order pizza, and feel bad about it by Monday. I dialed the number to Tony’s Pizza:

“Thanks for calling Tony’s pizza. My name is Tasha. How may I help you?” said the voice on the other end of the phone.

“Hi Tasha, it’s Dawn. I’d like to order a spinach and chicken calzone…” I started.

“Hey Dawn. I got it in the system already. That’ll be a spinach and chicken calzone, extra feta, a greek salad, water, and a 2 liter ice tea. Correct?” She finished the order before I could properly get the words out of my mouth.

“Uh…,” I chuckled, more embarrassed than amused. “Yeah. Correct.”

“That’ll be $24.68. Will you be paying cash or by credit card?” She asked.

“I’ll be paying cash this time,” I answered.

“Alrighty. Rome will be your delivery man. And you should expect him in about 45 minutes to an hour. Thank you have a great evening.” She said.

“Thanks, you too.” I replied.

Hmmm….Rome. That’s his name. I had 45 minutes to an hour to make myself look effortlessly sexy. I wanted to look like I had just thrown something on for an unexpected night in the house.
I ran upstairs to my master bathroom and took a look at myself. Not too bad. Family genes had prevented wrinkles and bad skin. Working out had decreased the flab. I had already taken a shower. Now what to wear?

I went into my closet to find something simple to wear. Jeans and a form-fitting white t-shirt. It’s funny the amount of effort we women put into looking good for a man. I found out from my best male friend just how simple men truly are. He told me that when women take four hours to get dressed to impress a man, it literally takes him less than 45 seconds to take it all in and then move on to the next subject. But when we take, say, 30 minutes to an hour just grooming and up keeping, they pay more attention because it’s so understated. All in all, women get dressed up for themselves and other women, not for men.

After I threw on my clothes and sprayed some smell good. I made sure the house was in order. I felt like I had been planning this encounter for two months.

The door bell rang not a moment too soon. I was so excited, I was shaking. I took one last look around, composed myself, and opened the door.

It was him. It was Rome. I didn’t know him personally, but just the sight of him had bore down to my soul.

Rome was a 5’11 culturally ambiguous looking God. The word through the grapevine was that he was half Italian, half black from Brooklyn, 100% sexy. His long dreads where neatly kept in a braid and under his company hat. His skin was the color of a mocha frappuccino, but he himself was sizzling hot. He had the shiniest white teeth you had ever seen. They were like mountains of snow in the winter time. His appeal was as comforting as an electric blanket. And his body? Immaculate. I could only imagine what he was packing in his khaki pants.

He was just too sexy to be a pizza delivery man. It was as if life was unfair to his career, but more than generous to his body.

“Hey there! I see we meet again under the normal circumstances,” He chuckled flashing those snowy peaks at me.

Apparently he was a comedian too. I thought sarcastically.

“Hey yourself. Come on in. I’m paying cash today. Make yourself comfortable, I’ll be right back,” I told him.

It was time to put my plan into action. I had hoped that he didn’t have another delivery immediately after mine. Honestly, I just needed about 40 minutes of his “quality” time and I was good. I turned on some soft music on the home theatre and sprayed some of my perfume laden with pheromones. The lady at the mall counter told me about it’s potent power. I truly hoped she was telling the truth.

I descended down the stairs where I met his gaze. I could tell he was curious because he wasn’t rushing to leave. It was now time to take this to the next level.

“I hope you don’t think me too forward, but I think you are the sexiest delivery man I have ever seen. At first I ordered my food because I was hungry, but now I could care less about the food,” I told him.

“Well, if you’re not hungry for food. What exactly do you want?” He asked me with a curious gaze.

I said to myself, it was now or never. The worst that could happen is that he’s gay. If he is, at least I went after what I wanted.

With all the courage I could muster, I gave him a deep passionate kiss. Really getting into, waiting for him to pick me up and whisk me into the bedroom like men did in those old romance novels.

He promptly broke the kiss. Gave me my food and left without getting the money for it.
Damn. I thought to myself. He was indeed gay. No man I know would have left like that.
Fuck! I was hungry and horny now. At least the hunger would have been satisfied. But I hated masturbating as a result of not getting any. It just emphasized the fact that I was masturbating as a result of not getting any.

After that comedy, no romance involved debacle. I prepared my food and turned on Love Potion No. 9. I so love that Sandra Bulloch. I had finished eating, just as the movie came to an end. I looked at the clock and it was a little after 11:30. Going to the entertainment stand to search for a new movie, I heard my door bell ring.

Lord. I hope this wasn’t drunk ass Sherry coming in early from a long night. My best friend Sherry was notorious for showing up unexpectedly in the middle of the night. Whether it was after a drunken night out, a spat with her boyfriend, or just because, she seemed to always find her way to my apartment. I sighed as I walked to the door.

“Hey girl hey!” Sherry said as she walked in to my place.

I shook my head. If this girl ain’t the most predictable person on this green Earth.

“Hey girl. What’s up? I thought you and “The Mexican” were going out tonight. It’s kinda early for you all to be home already,” I said to her.

“Man. Jose is straight tripping today. We made plans earlier this week to do dinner and dancing and he decided at the last minute that he was going to stay later at work to pull some extra hours. I really could have gotten that notice like before I started to get dressed,” she said angrily.

She continued, “I mean is it so hard to pick up the cell and say ‘Babe, I’m going to be working late tonight. Let’s reschedule or do something tomorrow.”

“Yeah. I feel you. Well, if you want I still have some left over spinach and chicken calzone. You can have that and I’ll pop in another movie,” I tell her.

“ANOTHER movie? Don’t tell me you’ve been sitting here eating pizza and watching romantic comedies again?!” She said judgmentally.

Busted. I thought to myself.

“No. I’m not watching romantic comedies while eating pizza.” I said with conviction, “I’m eating spinach and cheese calzone while watching sappy romance movies. Thank you very much.” I told her.

“Oh ho! Excuse me for being wrong,” she said with sarcasm.

We sat down and watched another movie as she finished up the rest of my food. Before the movie credits began to roll, Sherry was out like a light. I knew she had been drinking some, she only falls asleep that fast after a couple of glasses of Moscato.

I turned off the entertainment system, covered Sherry with the throw blanket and made my way to my room.

As I got to the last step, I heard another ring from the door bell.

Who the hell was that at 2:15 in the morning? It better not be Jose coming to pick up his girl. It’s too damn late for all these people.

I walked back down the stairs, ready to cuss out Jose for causing this chain reaction.
I swung the door open with much attitude, ready to give Jose a good chunk of my mind. I opened my mouth ready to go off and realized it was Rome. His presence had taken me aback. I was totally surprised to see him standing there. But when I thought about it, I remembered he left without me paying him. I dug into my pockets to give him the $30 I had for the meal plus tip. I reached out my hand to give it to him and was met by a billowy cloud of luscious lips.

I looked at him confused.

“Uhm…I guess you’re not gay,” I said to him still in a daze.

“Gay? Why would you think I’m gay,” he said with a look of discernment.

“The way you bolted out of the house after I kissed you earlier. I just knew you had to be gay. No man would just up and leave without saying something,” I told him.

“A man who wants to keep his job and has a full load of deliveries would. I left because if I had stayed earlier, I wouldn’t have made it back to work tonight,” he told me honestly. “But I’m not here to talk because I don’t think that’s what you wanted. Are you still hungry?” he asked with much innuendo.

“Starving,” I replied, inviting him in.

I closed the door and led him to my bedroom, making sure to not wake up Sherry.

I turned to close the door. He leaned into me, kissing my neck. I allowed myself to get carried away in the sweet sensations of his tongue. We stood there engulfed in each other’s pheromones. I could feel him rubbing his hardening dick against my ass. I led his hands to my breasts and let him squeeze them, feeling their fullness.

His hands traveled down my body to the top of my jeans. Very swiftly he unbuttoned them and slowly undid the zipper. I turned to face him, fiending for his soft lips. The moment reminded me of that hypersexual Janet Jackson video. I kissed him with every ounce of my horny soul. I think he knew how hungry I was.

Rome lifted me up, lips still attached to mine, and carried me to the bed. He slowly pulled my jeans off, bending down to kiss my stomach. An area that I was still self-conscious about but somehow he made me feel so good. We finally got out of the rest of our clothes and got down to some serious business. Up until that time, I had never met a man who really knew how to make me feel good, but I was glad that I was experiencing that now.

Rome kissed me all over my body as he entered me. My fire was flickering and with one movement, I was an inferno. Rome started me off slowly, working my body, slow stroking me to heaven. His dick went in and out of me, massaging my pussy. It felt like it had been ages since I felt like this and I was glad that he was willing to allow me to enjoy it.

Rome turned me over so that I was lying on my stomach. He kissed my neck as he slowly entered me from behind. He was driving me insane. Naturally, I raised my ass a little to meet his deep strokes. I couldn’t take it anymore. I was loving the slow stroking but my fire was becoming a volcano and I needed to erupt.

“I want you to hit this pussy doggy style,” I told him, breathlessly, “and don’t hold back on me neither.”

Rome helped me to the edge of the bed and put me in the doggy style position, my favorite. I leaned over, got comfortable and let Rome take me on a nice ride. He stroked and beat pussy until I was damn near begging him to stop. I grabbed on to the sheets to keep my balance. I couldn’t let him ride me like he was and not get him back with some return action. I threw my ass back as hard as I could. I knew he enjoyed it because his stroke slowed down a bit. I gave my ass a little wiggle as I threw it back and knew I had him. From that moment it turned into a competition between the two of us. A competition to see who could make who come harder.

As he was stroking me hard and fast, I was throwing my ass back into him with equal speed. His dick was a like a piston, revving my engine. I couldn’t hold on any longer. I was about to give up on the competition and throw in the white flag. My volcano was ready to erupt…

“I’m coming. I’m coming. You win. Oh God…” I half screamed, half muttered.

Rome kept stroking me as I came, making the feeling even more intense. Not a moment too soon I heard him grunt and felt his stroke slow way down.

I was spent, but I felt good. When we were done and cleaned up, we laid back in the bed together. I turned to him,

“Why did you leave so abruptly when I kissed you earlier?” I asked him.

“Because 1. I have a job and responsibilities to the people I work with. And 2. most women think they want to take the lead and be aggressive to a man, but what they really want is for a man to listen to what their body needs. I knew your body needed the Rome treatment.” He said a little cockily.

“Hmmm…The Rome Treatment huh? I guess I should ask for that the next time I order from Tony’s pizza,” I said to him laughing.

Waxed

I remember the first time I got waxed.

I was at Home Depot visiting some former co-workers when this guy walks in and hands me his business card. At first I was upset because the business card was about threading and waxing. So I’m like, “what you trying to say?”

I get mad, go to the car, come back and realize he is giving everyone around me a card. But he’s focusing on me telling me I should come and check him out. So I go there when I leave Home Depot. I give him my number and didn’t think anything of it. He calls me a couple of days later and told me to come by the shop to hang. I think he is kidding around and take my time finally stopping by, but I finally do and have a good time just chilling. I go over there a few times, but for some reason I would always go after hours. I’m not sure why. But I would always go after hours and hang out, watch TV, just chill.

He would do things like cut my hair in the back, give me a shape up. He was just leading me into getting services. Charming me with his skills so I wouldn’t have a choice but to come back and see him. He would always ask me if I wanted to get any waxing done or threading and I would always say to him,

“No, I’m okay. I’m uncomfortable with wax and I heard that threading hurts…I’m just not interested.”

I visit him another day, after hours, and we’re eating and drinking with his friend. It starts to get late and his friend leaves, but we’re still just sitting there and he asks me about the waxing again.

So I say, “Sure why not. What’s the worst that can happen?”

He tells me, “Well if you want I can do it now!”

I was like, “First of all how do I know you can wax? This is not something you can play with. This is pain. This is not a game”

“Yes yes, I learned it. I know how to do all the services. I know how to wax.” He reassures me.

He takes me to this little room dimly light with curtains, a nook with oils and waxing instruments, and a table like they use for massaging. I look at the room, look at him and walk in. He tells me to take off my clothes, cover myself with a towel and lay down on the covered table.

He leaves for a moment to get the strips and a towel. A couple minutes later, I’m laying on the table, bare bottom, with my arm over my head in shame. Waiting for this strange man to come into this room and get personal with me. I think to myself, how far is this gonna go?

That’s my problem, I like to push the boundaries of life to see where it’s going to take me.

He enters and begins the waxing procedure. I lie on the table and all I can think of inside my head is the pain. Because this shit really hurts, I mean you’re ripping the hair from my vagina! It’s my first time getting it done and all I can think about is the pain. This unnecessary pain. It’s the worse experience ever!

He finishes the front and tells me to turn over. I didn’t realize that they have to do the back as well. So I turn over and get on all fours, still trying not to make eye contact with him. He finishes the back and I turn back over so he can begin to rub this cream or lotion or gel in my private area, it would have been cool since my pussy was burning but he’s taking his time ensuring that it gets extra care.

I’m just laying there, wondering what’s going to happen next, wondering when the shame was going to end. I’m contemplating my thoughts when all of a sudden he starts petting me, like stroking me. It’s very weird and I don’t know what to think.

Next thing I know, before I can even grasp what’s going on, this man begins to lick me. Yes! He proceeds to begin eating my pussy. I’m laying there wondering in my mind if this is really happening. I peep down at him and realize that yes…this IS happening.

I cover my head in shame because this is not right. This cannot be right. So I go through my mind and ask myself “Do I stay? Or do I get up?” My vagina is burning from the wax, but his tongue feels so good. So I stay and let him finish.

This man had skills. He did things to me that I had never experienced before. He made my body feel a way it had never felt before. The pain of being waxed coupled with the pleasure he was providing was more than I could handle. Right there on that table, I grabbed his head and squeezed my knees together until I came. I came and I came and I came.

When I got up from the table, I couldn’t look in his eyes. I wondered to myself if he did that to all the girls, but it didn’t matter because he just did it to me. I had never gotten dressed so fast in my life, but I did. I pulled on my jeans, shirt, and shoes in one swift motion. I grabbed my purse and headed out the door, not looking back. I pulled my cap so low, you couldn’t see my eyes. I had to hide the pleasurable shame from what just took place.

The first time I got waxed.

How can I service you?

Wednesday, one of my only days off for the week. I had spent the majority of the morning running errands and paying bills. After leaving the house around 9 am, I got home around 2:30 pm. I was all ready to relax when I took a glimpse of myself in the mirror. What in THE hell was going on with my hair? I picked up my cell phone and called my stylist, Salina.

“Hey girl! Do you have room to pencil me in today?” I asked her.

“Yeah, you know we not that busy on Wednesdays. You can come on by and let me take a look at that head of yours.” She tells me.

I hung up the phone relieved that she would be able to see me today. You see, I won’t let anybody go near my head. I had been growing my hair out naturally and it was finally getting to a state where I could see the good in going natural.

Salina’s shop, Naturally You, was a joint salon/ barber shop in the Metropolitan area. I had been going there since I started growing my hair natural and she was the only person I knew who could hook my hair up better than I could and do it the way I wanted.

I hopped in my car and drove down the freeway determined to get to Salina’s shop before the day wore on. After driving through light traffic, I finally arrived at Salina’s shop. I took a look at myself in the rearview mirror just to make sure that the floral scarf I had wrapped around my head was still holding tight. I hated to go to the shop looking like a hot mess. Even though I was going to the shop to come out looking good, I just couldn’t step foot in there without feeling confident that I was at least looking decent.

I sashayed my way through the parking lot of the plaza where her shop was and glided through the door. I took off my sunglasses and looked to my left at the brothas getting their hair cut. There were definitely some cuties in there, but my main focus was making sure that my hair was hooked up right, especially for work the next day.

In my line of work the amount of compensation you make depends greatly on three things 1. How good you look when you come into work 2. Your attitude and mood and 3. Hustling. Now I know what you are thinking, “is this bitch a stripper or something.” No, nothing like that, I’m too dignified for something like that.

Now if that is what you want to do with your life, then that is fine for you, but me….hell to the naw. I don’t think so. I happen to be an airport credit marketing specialist, also known as a credit card saleswoman. Basically, I attract people with my looks and seduce them with my attitude and then “hustle” them into applying for a credit card.

I get to Salina’s chair which is located close to the back. Her salon was pretty much empty except for one sista getting her locs tightened and another getting braids put in. I sit in Salina’s chair and begin my meditation process. She takes the scarf off of my head and begins to undo the side braids I had been rocking for almost three weeks now. I close my eyes only taking peeks at my surroundings when I feel necessary. On one such peeking occasion, I see the finest brotha I had seen in a really long time. My eyes drink him in, sipping on every feature he had to offer- from his white high top AirForce Ones, baggy (but not too baggy) light denim jeans, to his baby blue big face Polo shirt. He was a handsome chocolatey brown brotha with muscles everywhere you could imagine. He made me want to lick him to find out just how sweet he really was. The raunchy thoughts I was thinking had my panties moist.

Salina must have heard my thoughts because she suddenly said to me, “Yeah, that’s Kaden Charles. He’s the newest apprentice here. Cute ain’t he?”

I say, almost in a whisper, “Hell….yeah….”

My roaming thoughts were interrupted when Salina tells me to walk over to the shampoo station. I sit back in the chair and rest my head back until my head is surrounded by the shampoo bowl. Salina turns the water to the perfect temperature and begins rinsing my hair out. After she gets all the dirt out of my hair she pours shampoo into her hands and gently massages it into my hair and scalp. She scrubs away the dead skin and left over residue, then rinses my hair again. Next she puts conditioner into my hair and lets it sit in for a few minutes.

I began drifting off to sleep (because that is how I do when I get relaxed) when all of a sudden my senses were bombarded by an unfamiliar yet delectable musk. My eyes shoot open to see Mr. Kaden standing beside me rinsing the conditioner out of my hair. He must have noticed the surprised look on my face because he immediately told me that Salina had to take a phone call and that he was just helping her out.

Unable to formulate words, I simply nod my head and close my eyes until I hear Salina coming back to the shampoo station. I give her a look that says, “Why? And Thanks.” She just laughs and tells me to go back to her salon station.

Salina puts the golden dye into my hair then sends me to the hair drying room to allow it to sit for twenty minutes.

I sit in the drying room minding my own business when Mr. Kaden Charles walks into the room looking sexy as hell.

“How can I service you?” He says to me with a smirk on his face.

“I’m sorry. What did you say?” I wasn’t sure if I had heard him right or if my mind was playing tricks on my ears.

“I said, How? Can. I. Service. You?” He replies. “I am a man of many talents. I could massage your feet. I could sing you a lullaby. I could do many other things. So, how can I service you?”

Now I know what you are thinking, who in their right mind would have sex with an almost complete stranger in a beauty shop full of nosy cosmetologists and patrons? I thought long and hard about what my reply to him should be. I thought about how this man could or would fit into my life. I thought about my own requirements and standards. I thought about how long it’s been since I had a long, hard, and strong dick inside my willing walls. Then I thought about having a good quick fuck in a public place.

“I have some things in mind that need a quick fix.” Hands down, my loins won.

He smiled at me with a Cheshire grin and walked to the back corner where I had been sitting.

He got down on his knees and took off my black thong sandal; caressed my foot with the strongest yet gentlest of touches.

I looked at him and said, “Baby, we don’t have time for foreplay.”

He got my drift, raised up from the ground and proceeded to pull down his jeans and boxers.

I was met by the longest, thickest, most beautiful black dick I had ever seen in all my twenty-something years.

He lifted me up out of the chair.

My face met his and he began kissing me with the lusciousest of lips. I got lost in his kiss and became amnesic because of the feeling of his dick throbbing between my legs. He took me to fantasy land with his tongue. Oh the things he could do to me with his tongue. At the same time he unbuckled my jeans and slowly began sliding them down my hips and thighs.

“I only have one request.” He breathlessly stated.

“What…what would that be?” I whispered back.

“You have to be absolutely quiet, but enjoy yourself. Can you do that for me?” He requests.

I nod my head yes, unable to mouth or say anything due to the magic his hands were working on my body.

He turned me around and bent me over the chair. He rubbed my bare round ass, then inserted his index finger into my already saturated pussy. When he inserted two fingers and stroked the ceiling of my pussy in a “come here” motion, I about lost it.

He knew I was ready and I knew there was no turning back. He slid a condom onto his throbbing dick and…

BACK AFTER THESE...

Sorry lost it for a second….

He slid a condom onto his throbbing dick and pulled his ship into my dripping harbor. If you catch my drift. He began slow, but with some prodding and rocking he got my drift to bang me hard and fast. He pumped his dick in and out of me till I was about ready to scream, sensing this he covered my mouth with his hand and pumped in me harder and faster. I could tell this man was working my body over by the sounds my pussy made as his dick went in and out of my dick.

In my head it sounded like “Please, please” and “Yes, yes, YES”

With the fear of getting caught, the task of being quiet, and this sexy strong muscular dick-skilled man I came… over and over and over again.

This was a first for me on many accounts. Not only was it my first time fucking a stranger in a public place, but it was the first time I came in under an hour….hell in under 30 minutes.

I was exhausted when we were finished. Coming off the high of cumming, I remembered where I was and that approximately 15 minutes had passed. I quickly yanked up my pants, buckled my belt as he did the same thing. He took the condom off and discretely discarded it.

As he was walking towards the door, Salina entered into the dryer room. I was afraid she’d sensed something because she entered the room and had a look on her face that said “what’s that smell?”

“Glad I could be of service. Let me know when you need them again.” And with that he left the dryer room.

Salina didn’t sense anything or if she did she didn’t say anything to me. Not only did I get my hair hooked up, but I got hooked up too.

I went back to the shop about a month later to look for Kaden, but the barbers told me he left to be at his brother’s shop about 50 miles from Salina’s.

He may be gone, but I’ll never forget how he serviced me that day.