Nudio's Pizza - On The Job Challenge

Patty handed me that special through the window next to the break room. It was an 'everything'. The code was 'dominoes'. The girls had tried to explain to me the rationale behind the codes once, but hell if I could keep up. I figured I would catch on after a while, but right now, I had no idea what I was in for.

I hadn't been warned that a special was coming up. I looked at Patty, surprised. She nodded. "Yup. Good luck, loverboy." She refused to say more, just gave me a wink. My face must have been pleading, she finally relented, a little. "Easy Peasy. Don't worry about it."

I tried not to, but Barney followed me out of the lot, thinking he was being sneaky. He wasn't, but there was nothing I could do about it. Sure enough, he lit me up about halfway to the 'Glades campus.

My appointment... encounter? date? Whatever, it was in one of the dorms. Easy Peasy, but I was still nervous about it, this being my first time. I mean, not my first time first time, but my first time as a professional. And now I had to deal with Barney.

He pulled me over on a busy secondary road where he was sure it would lead to maximum exposure and embarrassment, and ordered me to step out of the car.

He probably thought I cared, but if he'd stopped to think for even a minute, he would have realized that I wasn't hiding some secret fetish by being nude in my car. I was on my way to knock on the door of a complete stranger, after walking up to said door on public sidewalks and through public hallways.

I wasn't the least bit embarrassed about it, just annoyed. Annoyed at the delay, and the interruption of my day, at the imposition on my state of mind while I was bracing myself for something, other than walking around naked, that I was nervous about.

But thinking never seemed to be Barney's strong suit. He kept me there for 15 minutes, standing on the street side of my car, his spotlight pinning me like a bug in the view of every car going by.

He ran my license, he ran my plates, he even ran my insurance card. I didn't know they could do that. He searched my car, illegally. He demanded to know where I was going, none of his business. He demanded to know what I was delivering, even less his business. He tried to get me to confess that I was going out to offer sex for money.

OK, guilty as charged, but hell if I was going to let him know that. I just smirked at him as he got more and more wound up. In the end, he couldn't write me a ticket. There was nothing he could even trump up a charge on besides illegal parking since he'd pulled me over next to a sign.

Where I made my mistake was right after he pushed my documents into my bare chest, giving up his quest to write me up. "Better luck next time, Barney," I said.

He froze mid step on the way back to his car. I could see him shaking with helpless, impotent rage.

All he could manage to squeak out was, "cover yourself up, you degenerate."

"Is that a lawful order?" I called after him as he stalked back to his car. "Am I free to go?"

He never said another word, just got into his car and peeled around me, coming a little too close. I assumed I was no longer being detained.

The encounter had initially put me in a sour mood, but the ending was satisfying enough that I felt pretty good about myself as I walked through the dorm lobby and took the elevator upstairs to room 409.

====

The girl that answered that door was medium height, skinny, with an unkempt mop of black hair over a plain face. She was wearing a long t-shirt over bare legs. "Hi," I said, feeling unusually awkward. How the hell does a guy introduce himself in this situation? 'Hi, I'm the guy you hired to fuck you.' Probably not.

"Large pepperoni and mushroom, with jalapenos?" I stammered out.

She looked me up and down. "You must be new," she said, leading me into the room. She left the door wide open. "Usually, they're already hard when they get here."

"Umm, yeah, I guess I'm new."

She just nodded and took the pizza from me. She tossed it on a battered sofa amid piles of books and clothing. She pointed at the bed. "I need five minutes. Lay down and get yourself ready."

I stared for a minute, wondering what Patty had gotten me into. But I did what I was told, and lay down. "The other way," she ordered, then sat down at her desk in front of her laptop.

It was a strange request, but, hey, the customer is always right. I repositioned myself with my head toward the door and my feet at the head of the bed. "You want me to close the door?" I asked. She just shook her head and got lost in whatever she was doing at her desk.

Studying for finals, I guessed. In addition to the laptop, she had two heavy textbooks open, one on top of the other, and a yellow legal pad that she was scribbling notes into. She'd stop and type something, then return to the notebook.

So I just lay there, slowly stroking my cock to full hardness, knowing that anybody walking by the open door could see me.

It was more like ten minutes that I spent twiddling my thumbs, and twiddling my dick in full view of a hallway full of college kids. I tried to guess exactly what this girl would want to do with my penis.

It wasn't the worst job in the world.

Finally she stood, and stretched. I tried to look her over, but the shirt came down to her knees, and it was baggy.

"That's better." she said, looking at my rough and ready cock standing straight up in the air. She reached under her shirt and slid a pair of previously invisible panties down, tossing them on the couch. They landed half on top of the pizza. The shirt followed.

There was no display to it, no teasing, no showiness. It was like she was all alone in her room, stripping off to get in the shower or something. Or something, I thought, squeezing the base of my cock.

She had small tits, loose, but nicely shaped, narrow hips, and a dark bush as messy as her hair. She looked me over for a second, then leaned down and wrapped her hand around my cock. "Nice size," she said, as if I wasn't even there.

Then she put it in her mouth, making no effort to provide pleasure. She was doing this for her own purposes.

After a minute or two, she knelt on the bed, then swung a leg over to straddle my chest. She looked down at me. "I assume you're OK with eating pussy?" she asked.

"I love it." I said, eager to see what all that hair was hiding. She nodded and slid her hips forward, getting some of her weight onto her knees. I grabbed her ass and pulled her to my mouth.

"I don't need any teasing," she said when I started to circle her sweet spot. I looked up at her and saw an expression with more than a little impatience in it.

I nodded, and pulled her hips closer, then just went for it. She was barely wet, but in a minute, I had her moistening. "Oh yeah," she said, "right there." I focused my attention on that spot, using my fingers to open her up for better access to right there.

She got wetter and wetter. "Hrmmm." she grunted as I flicked her clit with my tongue. She had a nice pussy under there, with lips and a hood that stood out prominently once she was excited, with a nice oval of bright pink defined by a sharp, dark border.

She said she didn't need teasing, but I mixed it up a bit anyway, focusing mainly on her clit, but darting around once in a while, as much as I could with my head trapped between her thighs.

I felt those thighs start to vibrate against the sides of my head. "Oh god," she said quietly, her voice breathy. She said it again, but her pitch was rising, as was her climax.

Then suddenly, her hips were off my face. She got her feet under her flat on the mattress, knees out, and squatted on me, reaching down between her legs to line me up with that nice pink opening.

She pressed down on me, and I watched those flaps stretch around and over me as she pushed her ass straight down to my thighs and began to pump, using her thighs and knees to propel her body straight up and down.

As soon as she had me inside her, she moaned loudly, enough to carry out into the hallway from which anybody walking by would have more or less the same view I had. "Oh god, yesss," she moaned. "Grab my tits."

I happily obliged. Small or not, they were tits, and they were nice tits. I felt my lap getting soaked as she started to cum. It had all happened so quick that I wasn't there yet, but apparently, that was how she wanted it. "Don't cum yet," she ordered.

The tendons on her neck stretched and her face turned red. I kept myself from building any further, a talent I was mildly proud of. That I could control myself even while a girl was pounding and clenching me, and obviously orgasming, felt like an accomplishment.

When she'd gotten herself off, she collapsed back against the headboard, facing me with her legs spread obscenely, her pubic hair soaked and matted. I looked past my still raging hardon glistening with her juices, to see her staring back at me. "You give good head," she said.

I smiled as she caught her breath. It only took a minute, then she was standing, taking my hand to suggest I stand as well. She rummaged around her purse and pulled out the agreed upon amount, written in code on the label.

I just stared at her. Wait, is that all? What happened to 'yet'? Where was mine... Then I slumped, realizing there was no mine. She wasn't paying to have me get off, she was paying for herself to get off. She had, in record time, and I was no longer useful.

She handed me the cash plus a modest tip, and a clean-ish rag she'd picked off the couch. I cleaned myself up as best I could with the dry rag and headed to the door, remembering to politely thank her for her business, and wondering if I could get my dick to go limp long enough to walk back through those halls and lobby before getting to my car where I could jerk off.

When she let me out, she grabbed the pizza and yelled into the hallway. "Who wants pizza?"

Patty wasn't wrong. It was the easiest, peasiest money I'd made in a long time. And it hard hardly taken any time. Probably 30 minutes or less, including the driving time, if you didn't count my detour through Barney's delusional mind.

I finally understood the code, and by the time I got to my car, I was laughing too hard to rub one out.

Save it for the next customer, I thought.

====

Barney really had a hardon for me after that. When I'd called him Barney to his face, I'd sealed my fate. He became my shadow after that, tailing me everywhere I went. He even tailed me home once, and would occasionally show up behind me at random points in my day when I wasn't working.

And it wasn't always in a real cop car. He had an old beater, identical model to the cop cars, and he had it painted in the usual black and white. No lights, no markings, but he sure wanted to look like a cop even when he wasn't.

The only bright side was that he seemed less interested in the other drivers. Though not entirely disinterested. Now, no more warnings. Whenever he had the slightest excuse, he wrote a ticket. He even had another driver's car impounded a few days ago.

That night back at the store, I told everybody the story. Tony walked in and heard the bulk of it. It was a slow evening, unusual for a Friday, and when it was slow, he would sometimes come back and almost socialize with the drivers.

It didn't phase him one bit to see his daughter standing around with bare tits and ass, among a bunch of guys and other girls. Like I said, he's not naive. He knows what we all do for a living. If he had any second thoughts about essentially being his daughter's pimp, he kept them to himself.

"Dad," Chrissy said, "we've got to do something about this Barney thing."

Tony listened sympathetically as two other driver chimed in, but when it was done, he just nodded, and said, "Guys, I know he's a pain in your asses, but my hands are tied."

"It's more than a pain the ass. He's costing us business," Chrissy said.

"I know it Chrissy. Believe me, I'm just as pissed as you are."

"So do something. We have connections, right?"

It was a startling comment from Chrissy. She was part of the business in a way the rest of us drivers were not. She was going to be the boss one day, and she was part of all the behind the scenes machinations with her parents that didn't get talked about with the rest of us.

Tony flashed her a hard look of warning. "It's a give and take," he said sharply. "Find something concrete, and maybe I can talk to somebody."

I wondered who that somebody might be. I didn't think Tony was connected to the mob, and the mob wasn't what it used to be, not around here anyway, but there were plenty of, lets say, special interests that filled similar roles.

Still, I wondered which side of the law that somebody was that he had in mind. If we had our way, would Barney be demoted? Fired? Or just not be around any more without any word of why?

Hell, even if it meant him sleeping with the fishes - and while Fallsworth had no beaches itself, miles of shoreline were just a short drive away - I wouldn't feel much sympathy or guilt over his fate. He'd earned something, even by the standards of polite society.

The phone rang, and Tony rushed back to the front, as much as a guy his size could rush. Patty turned to go up front as well, but before she did, she said to Chrissy, "You need to talk to Tracy."

Tracy, as it turned out, was Barney's daughter, and a friend of Chrissy's. Or at least an acquaintance. She lived with her mother, who had divorced Barney a few years ago, because, as we all know, he is fucking batshit crazy.

Tracy went to 'Glades as a sophomore, but lived year round with her mom. They were well rid of him, and other than some friendly advice, they were reluctant to get involved. No reason they should care about our problems. But that all changed about two months later, after the school year had ended.

====

The phone rang right after the official second hand on the official clock officially clicked past our official closing time.

"Nudio's Pizza," Patricia answered. "I'm sorry, we're closed." She looked at me with a huge smile. "Mmm hmm, Sorry." she said politely, then quickly hung up.

Before the phone stopped rattling in the cradle, she turned and stepped to me, putting her arms over my shoulders. She had to reach up to do it, but that only served to stretch her compact body out nicely against the apron I had to wear to be up front.

"No specials today?" she asked, knowing full well there had been none. She was the official coordinator, in every way but on paper, of our side hustles.

"Not a one," I said, smiling at her. It had taken me a while to figure out what her real job was here, but once I got inducted into the club, it became more clear. Tony, officially, had no idea that his employees were running an occasional prostitution ring right under his nose, despite the commission he took on every deal.

Patricia was our ringleader.

Having a dry spell of a shift was not unusual. Probably half the days I worked left me with full balls by closing time. Not blue balls, I still managed to drain them every day. One way or another.

I was pretty sure Patricia was suggesting one of my favorite ways. We'd broken down the line, done the dishes, swept and mopped, all before officially being closed. It was Tuesday, always a slow late night, even with school being out. We took the chance that we would not get any orders in the last 45 minutes, and that worked out as often as not.

When I got my apron off, I was hard as a rock. She leaned in and pressed her body against mine and looked up into my eyes. "Don't start without me," she said, squeezing my cock before darting off to the shower.

"One or two tonight?" she asked when she came back into my arms all squeaky clean and damp.

I'm a young guy. Young and healthy, and I could do two in a day without breaking a sweat. Sometimes, after cumming twice, I felt like I was just getting started. "Sky's the limit," I told her.

She grinned. "Yay!" and squeezed me tight, bending her head back. I squeezed back, loving how her bare skin molded to mine from top to bottom. I bowed my head and gingerly kissed her lips, then her nose and her forehead. Then my lips went back to hers and didn't leave for an hour.

OK, it was probably only a minute, but, you know how that goes. She was pressing me so tight that my hands had nothing to grab onto besides her waist. She was short enough that I could just barely reach her ass.

I knew that was deliberate. She may come off slutty, but she's a very, very smart girl who knows what she wants. Her mind is one of those that is always thinking several steps ahead, which makes her very good at her officially unofficial job.

I knew even before she dropped to her knees that it was part of her plan. She wouldn't let me enjoy her body yet, not until she needed to get me back up to speed for another round, one that would be for her.

I looked down at her lips wrapping around my cock, then backing off to swirl her tongue. Patricia and I, we had an understanding. We were just friends. Friends with benefits that were off the charts. She was as horny a girl as I'd ever met, and utterly unashamed of what she needed, and of making sure we both got those needs satisfied.

She was being a playful, but only because she knew I liked that. But really, she was all business, and didn't let any teasing get in the way of getting from point A to point B, with point B being swirling my semen around in her mouth to taste it thoroughly before swallowing it.

Normally, I would have liked to draw it out a while, savor it, but I knew this was just foreplay. I knew there would be plenty of drawing out and savoring once she'd taken the edge off.

All business or not, she gave me an eye crossing, body withering orgasm. Amazingly, I'd gotten used to her ethereal, godlike blowjobs. Not that they weren't as absolutely mind blowing as the first one, but I was no longer surprised by it, and so I managed to keep my head, absent the shock, if not the awe.

When she'd milked all she could from me, she used her tongue and lips to clean me as thoroughly as I could do with soap and water. So thoroughly that I started that climb back up toward the edge.

She stood, and gave my hands access to all the places they'd been denied before. I took full advantage of it, but this one was for her. It was no coincidence that the places my hands most wanted to explore were exactly the same places she most wanted explored.

I had the leisure of taking my time now, the urgency of needing to get off more a manageable wish than a desperate need. After I'd done all I could with my hands and mouth while we stood, she lifted her ass up onto the table.

"Pull up a seat, young man." she ordered. While I did, she settled herself on the table and pulled her feet up, perching them to each side at the edge in a contorted posture only a woman's hips could ever manage.

Seated at the table for my feast, it was my turn to give her what she'd seen Chrissy get against the brick wall in the alley. Like me, there was no longer any surprise at how good it was, but that didn't stop her from shaking the table so hard it rattled the walls.

Again, not bragging, but c'mon, I'm a professional.

When she couldn't take any more, I stood, and gave her more. She feebly protested, but I knew that she was only pretending to be done.

I plunged into her, reaching places my fingers never could, and focused on my own ends. She was beyond needing finesse. She was a rag doll, her body one giant, excruciatingly sensitive nerve. She didn't need technique, she couldn't have discerned it if I had tried. She just needed pounding.

So I...

The door squealed open and voiced filled the room to drown out Patty's feeble whimpering. I hesitated, but didn't pull out. Patty rose up onto her elbows to look at the intruders, but my intrusion still dominated her awareness, and her face looked like she was trashed, seeing double, face bright red and her hair a wild, stringy mess plastered by sweat to her head.