The Delivery Boy’s Secret
It started with a simple errand. I had visited the local corner store to pick up a few essentials, and the clerk had given me their number for home deliveries. I didn’t think much of it until a sunny Saturday afternoon when a young man arrived at my door. He was barely twenty, with sun-kissed skin and a lean, athletic build that made my heart skip a beat. There was something in the way he moved—a certain raw, youthful confidence—that immediately captivated me.
Over the next few weeks, I found myself ordering things I didn’t even need, just to ensure he was the one making the trip. Our conversations grew longer, shifting from polite pleasantries to personal revelations. One afternoon, he confessed with a shy grin that he loved the feeling of freedom, telling me how he used to wander naked through houses he looked after. The admission sparked a fire in me, a hunger for the boldness he possessed.
The tension peaked on a humid evening. I greeted him at the gate, intentionally shirtless, the warm air clinging to my skin. As we talked, he rested his hand against the iron railing. I stepped closer, letting my chest graze his knuckles. I felt him stiffen, his breath hitching. He didn’t pull away; instead, his fingers curled, grazing my nipple with a tentative, electric touch. I leaned in, whispering a proposal for him to visit me properly once his shift ended. He didn’t hesitate to agree.
The following day, the anticipation was nearly unbearable. I spent the afternoon scrubbing the apartment and bathing until my skin glowed, waiting for the clock to strike four. When he finally arrived, the air between us was thick with unspoken desire. He told me he only had a few minutes before he had to return to work, which only added to the urgency of the moment.
I didn’t waste a second. I guided him inside and lowered my trousers, offering myself to him. He was inexperienced, his grip firm yet uncertain, but his physical presence was overwhelming. When he revealed himself, I was breathless; he possessed a thickness and length that seemed impossible for his age. I dropped to my knees, eager to taste him, my tongue exploring every inch of his heat with a devotion that left us both trembling.
Knowing time was short, I applied a bit of lubricant and urged him to lie back. I climbed atop him, slowly guiding his impressive length inside me. The initial stretch was intense, a sharp bloom of pressure that quickly melted into an exquisite, filling ache. I began to ride him, my hips moving in a rhythmic, desperate dance, chasing the peak of pleasure while he gasped beneath me.
As he reached his limit, he warned me, and I leaned down, taking him deep into my throat. He came in powerful, rhythmic bursts that filled my mouth with a salty, warm sweetness. I swallowed every drop, savoring the taste of his youth and vigor. He left shortly after, promising to return soon, leaving me breathless and aching in the best possible way. I knew then that I wanted him as my secret lover, always ready and waiting for the next delivery.