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