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explained.
Whatever. It's not an addition to the Louvre or anything.
He's designing a new bathroom for the local Braille Institute for
chrissakes. I'm sure most of the patrons won't know or care how it
looks as long as the toilet paper's within arms' reach. How hard can it
be?
Plus my new neighbors upstairs from me were throwing a
housewarming party but they failed to tell their guests what
apartment number the party was in. Since my apartment was at the
front, I kept getting random people knocking on my door. That got
old. Real fast.
You'll have to excuse me. I guess I'm just a little upset. It
would've been date #2 with Interior Design Guy (a.k.a. Wayne), and
I was looking forward to getting beyond the making out and the
feeling each other up that we did after date #1. Especially after a
long week at the office.
I really needed to unwind and take a long, hot shower and
start my evening over again. So I took off my cute new shirt that
nicely accentuated my pecs and sloughed off my tight jeans. There
was no underwear to take off since I was hoping to have Wayne's
lips around my hard dick sooner rather than later after dinner for
dessert. I caught a glimpse of my body in the full length mirror on
my closet door.
Not bad. Round bubble butt. Nice arms, V-shaped back and
though I didn't have a six-pack, my stomach was pretty firm. All
those years on my college swim team transformed my once lanky
body into a fairly natural athletic build.
Since I wasn't having a date tonight, I decided after the
shower I could check out the sexy pics on m4manmeat.com and play
with myself. I was gonna get off tonight come hell or high water!
I was about to get into the shower when I heard a knock on
the door. I grabbed a towel and wrapped it around my waist.
Probably another lost soul bearing wine for that housewarming. I
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opened the door as I was saying, "Oh the party is down the hall and
upsta..." but the words got caught in my throat when I saw before me
the dreamiest man standing on my welcome mat--holding a pizza.
"Did you order a large sausage?" he asked in a gruff voice,
seemingly unfazed that I was only wearing a towel.
He was a tall, husky football player type guy with dark hair
and eyes. He had a barrel sized chest under his shirt and the name tag
read "Grunt." His sensual looking mouth was encircled by a neatly
trimmed goatee. The words "Three Guys from Italy" were printed in
large letters on the pizza box.
"Umm, I didn't order a pizza...," I told him staring at his
beautiful eyes and strong square jaw, "...but I wished I had!" I
punctuated it with a wink and a smile.
The stud cracked a little grin.
"I have a feeling that pizza is for my neighbors down the hall
and upstairs...er, Grunt," I continued to say, pointing him in the right
direction.
He eyed me from head to toe and his gaze lingered around
the towel covering by stiffening cock. "Thanks for the info," he said.
Before he went to make his delivery, he paused at the door and said:
"If you still want that large sausage, call the restaurant in the next
few minutes. I've only got one more delivery for the night. Tell 'em
you want Grunt."
"You're on," I quickly replied. He gave me the number for
"Three Guys from Italy," and I quickly called on my phone. A
noticeably Asian accent answered the phone. I placed my order,
gave him the address and asked specifically for "Grunt" to deliver.
"Okay, no problem. Thirty minutes, okay?" the voice said on
the phone.
"Yes, thank you," I said as I hung up the phone. I was
brimming with excitement. I tidied up the bedroom a bit and stuck all
the dirty clothes into the closet. I put all the crusty dishes into the
dishwasher.
I put a tank top and some shorts on and waited
patiently.
Twenty eight minutes and 37 seconds later there was a
knock on my door.
I opened the door and there was Grunt not in his "Three
Guys From Italy" uniform but wearing a white shirt, tie and black
slacks holding a pizza.
"Did you order a large sausage?" he said with a smile.
"Oh, yes, I did. Please come in. You sure clean up good." I
ushered his beautiful body into the apartment and shut the door. I
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could see his perfectly sculpted butt as I locked the door.
I took the pizza from him and set it on the nearby table. I
took the end of his tie and drew him close to me. His scent was an
intoxicating mix of garlic, cheese, tomato sauce and that new
cologne advertised by that hottie British soccer player. Very hot.
"How much do I owe you?" I asked.
"Nothing if you play your cards right. The pizza's free if I
can make a delivery up that tight ass of yours..." he said while
pawing at my butt cheeks with his thick fingers. His mouth came
over mine and I succumbed to his sensual lips and probing tongue.
His goatee rubbed over my face, sending waves of pleasure down my
spine and into my aching crotch.
"Well, it is a tough economy right now. With high food
prices, we consumers have to do what we can to get by..." I said.
Grunt ripped my shorts off and revealed my engorged cock.
Gobs of precum were forming at the tip and about to drop to the
carpeted floor. He took one of his thick fingers and rubbed my
manjuice over the head, teasing my piss slit.
"Where's the bedroom?" he said in a calm deep voice. I
pointed the direction with my eyes. He raised me over one of his
broad, beefy shoulders, my ass in the air and carried confidently into
the bedroom. He threw me onto the bed, as I stared at him longingly.
Grunt was in control, and he knew it. Every time I tried to
reach for his dick he'd push me back on the bed.
"Hold on. We've got all night, baby," Grunt chuckled. He
did a slow striptease for me as I lay on the bed. First his shoes that
revealed what must have been a size 13 foot. Lucky him. Then he
slowly undid his tie. Then his shirt buttons--first the sleeves and
then the front, revealing a muscular chest covered in a forest of hair.
My balls were straining at the sight of his body.
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