Adventure with the Delivery Guy While He Was Showering

That Saturday night, the heat of Mendoza seeped in through the open living room window. It was ten o’clock sharp, and the heavy air weighed on the two-room apartment where Carolina and Diego had been living for almost three years.

Carolina, thirty-two, a nurse at a private clinic downtown, was sunk into the couch with her phone in hand. Her blonde hair was tied up in a makeshift bun, she wore an old Charly García T-shirt that was two sizes too big, and jean shorts so short they rode up every time she crossed her legs. She had just confirmed the order on the app: a large pizza with mozzarella, black olives, mushrooms, tomato, and anchovies. Her weekly indulgence, the only luxury she allowed herself after twelve-hour shifts taking care of people who looked at her as if she were invisible.

From the kitchen, Diego slammed the fridge shut harder than necessary. Thirty-five years old, long-distance driver, broad-backed, jaw clenched from too many hours behind the wheel. On the table there was a pile of overdue bills stacked like a castle about to collapse.

—Pizza again, Caro? —he threw out without looking at her, opening a can of beer—. Seriously, again?

—Mhm —she replied without looking up.

—Let me remind you the rent goes up next month. We’re two bills behind on the power. The car’s been sitting there for a week and I still have to pay the mechanic. And you ordering delivery like nothing’s happening.

Carolina set the phone on the armrest and looked at him. That half-smile she got when she turned sarcastic grew on her face, the one Diego knew and hated in equal measure.

—It’s one pizza, Diego. One pizza. I’m not buying an apartment in Palermo.

—It’s expensive food. There’s pasta in the pantry.

—There’s been pasta in the pantry for three weeks. I work too, in case you forgot. I put money into this place too.

Diego took a long swig of beer. The fizz bubbled in his throat and the can crumpled under his fingers.

—Enjoy yourself, you say. Enjoy what? Having your ass on the couch while I bust my back driving? If it weren’t for your whims…

—My what? —Carolina got up from the couch with her hands on her hips, her whole body tightening—. Say it again.

—Your fat ass —he said, no filter left, really angry now—. Your fat, spoiled ass. Want me to repeat it?

Something inside her cracked. It wasn’t sadness. It was something else, something hotter and darker that settled between her ribs and made her clench her teeth. She felt her pulse in her throat, felt the heat slide down from the nape of her neck to her waist, and for a second, just one second, a thought so absurd it almost made her laugh crossed her mind.

I’m going to make you pay for that.

—Go to the bathroom, Diego. Before I say something you’ll regret.

He threw the empty can into the trash with a sweep of his arm.

—You pay for that shitty pizza yourself, then. I’m not putting in a dime. And learn what money is worth for once, bitch.

He turned his back on her and disappeared down the hall. Carolina heard the bathroom door slam, and a minute later the hum of the water heater and water hitting the tiles. When Diego showered, he showered slowly. A long twenty minutes. She knew it by heart.

Bitch. The word bounced around her head like a metallic echo.

***

The doorbell rang.

Carolina walked to the door with her heart making a strange noise in her chest. She felt the tingle between her legs before she understood what she was thinking. Before she understood that she had already decided. Her nipples had gone hard under the old T-shirt, and she noticed the warm dampness soaking the gusset of her panties.

She took off her shorts in the hallway. Left them tossed on the little phone table. She stayed in the long T-shirt and black panties underneath, no more thinking, and opened the door.

On the other side was a kid. Nineteen, twenty at most. Thin, with dark eyes and a faint mustache over his upper lip. He had the pizza box balanced in one hand and the thermal bag hanging from the other arm, and on the delivery chain T-shirt, in yellow letters on a red background, it said “Nicolás.”

—Hi… —He started to speak and the words caught in his throat—. Good evening, uh, the pizza for… —He looked down at the receipt and his cheeks flamed—. For Carolina?

She didn’t answer right away. She leaned one shoulder against the doorframe and looked him up and down slowly, as if measuring him. Then she smiled. A smile that even surprised her.

—Come in, Nicolás. Put the box on the table.

He stood still for a second, deciding if he had heard right. Then he came in. Carolina closed the door behind him without making a sound. The murmur of water in the bathroom kept going steadily at the back of the hallway.

—I didn’t bring the money —she said, coming closer—. Is that a problem?

—Uh… no, I mean, I… —Nicolás put the box on the coffee table and stood there with empty hands, not knowing what to do with them—. Maybe we can collect later.

—Maybe later.

She ran one finger along the collar of his T-shirt and up to his jaw. The kid tensed, but didn’t move. Carolina lowered her right hand between his legs, grabbed his package over the jeans, and squeezed. She felt the cock growing fast against her palm, thickening in gulps, and when she squeezed harder Nicolás closed his eyes for a moment and let out the air through his nose.

—You’re hard already —she told him in his ear, biting his earlobe—. Just from touching you through your pants.

—I have to get back to the bike —he murmured, his voice breaking—. I’ve got other orders.

—Mhm. You’re leaving soon.

She kissed him. Slowly at first, almost testing, and when he kissed her back with the clumsy awkwardness of a first-time kid, Carolina understood this was really going to happen. She put a hand on the back of his neck, pushed her whole tongue deep into his mouth, and felt his big hand, still hesitant, slide down to grab her ass with both hands and knead it beneath her panties. He dug his fingers into her cheeks, spread her flesh, and Carolina felt the cool air of the living room slipping between her breasts.

—You’re beautiful —Nicolás said against her mouth—. You’re…

—Shut up and suck my tits.

***

She led him to the couch without stopping kissing him. She pulled off his jacket and tossed it to the floor, and he, already a little less shy, lifted her T-shirt up to her shoulders. Carolina helped him get it all the way off and stayed in her panties in front of him, tits bare, nipples standing pink and hard aimed at his face, while the water kept falling at the end of the hallway.

—Touch me —she asked, taking his hands and placing them on her chest—. Touch me hard, you won’t break me.

Nicolás squeezed her. His hands were warm and a little rough, and Carolina felt the kid’s breathing speed up against her neck. He grabbed both tits at once, pressed them together, and lowered his mouth onto one nipple and sucked it like he had been waiting his whole life for it. He tugged it with his teeth, let it go, ran his tongue around it, and sucked again. Then the other one. Carolina felt the waves running down to her cunt, every pull of the kid’s mouth shooting straight to her clit.

—Like that, for fuck’s sake, like that… —she gasped, grabbing his hair—. Don’t let go of my tits.

He slid his right hand into her panties and found her soaked. His fingers went in without resistance, two at once, all the way to the knuckles, and he started moving them inside while his thumb pressed her clit. He moved his hand in circles, slow at first, then faster, until she swallowed a groan against his shoulder. The squelching sound of his fingers going in and out of her was so loud Carolina was afraid it might be heard from the bathroom.

—That’s it —Carolina said—, that’s it. Put them all the way in.

She grabbed his wrist and hurried the rhythm. Nicolás looked at her with wide eyes, learning, and when she said “three, give me three,” he slipped another finger in and Carolina folded in half, bracing herself on his shoulders so she wouldn’t fall. Her cunt was making a wet, obscene noise, and she felt the first wave of her orgasm gathering low in her belly.

—Wait, wait, not yet. —She jerked his hand out.

She made him sit on the couch. She unbuttoned his jeans with an efficiency she didn’t even know she had and pulled them down to his ankles along with his boxer briefs. His cock sprang out hard and veined, the tip already shiny, and Carolina felt her mouth fill with saliva. When she knelt between his legs, Nicolás let out a sound that was half nervous laugh, half something else.

—I won’t take long —she warned him, looking up from below with blazing green eyes, grabbing his cock with her right hand and squeezing it from top to bottom—. My boyfriend finishes showering in fifteen minutes.

The kid nodded as if he understood. He understood nothing. Carolina spat into her palm, rubbed it over his length, and took him into her mouth in one go. She swallowed him down to the throat, until her nose hit the kid’s belly, and she heard him breathe hard and saw him clutch the back of the couch until his knuckles turned white. She went up and down slowly with her head, letting him feel her tongue against the vein underneath, and every now and then she would let him go for a second just to look at him and smile around the saliva in her mouth before starting again.

—Look —she told him, and stuck out her tongue to show him the tip before dragging it all the way from bottom to top, from his balls to the head, unhurried—. Look how I suck you.

She took his balls in her left hand and weighed them, massaged them, and with her right hand started jacking him while she took the tip into her mouth and sucked it like candy. Nicolás let out a long groan. His two hands were buried in her hair, not pushing, but not moving away either. Carolina sped up, hand and mouth synchronized, saliva dripping down her chin and onto her breasts. She could feel him throbbing against her palate, feel him breathing faster and faster, and she knew that if she kept going the kid would finish early.

She got up. She pulled off her panties in one motion and threw them against the lamp.

—Wa… —he started.

—Don’t talk. Not one word.

***

She climbed on top. She adjusted him with her hand, braced against his chest, and rubbed the tip of his cock against the wet lips of her cunt, up and down, soaking him completely. Then she lowered herself slowly until she took him all in with one hard thrust. Her whole body trembled. He trembled too. She stayed still for a second with him inside her to the hilt, feeling him throb, feeling how the kid clenched his teeth not to come right then.

—You’re huge, you son of a bitch —she whispered against his mouth—. You filled me completely.

Carolina braced both hands on his shoulders and started moving, first rolling her hips, grinding her clit against the base of his cock, then riding up and down harder, until the living room walls filled with the dry sound of skin against skin and the splashing of her soaked cunt. The couch creaked with every drop, the springs protesting under the weight of both of them.

—Hold on —she ordered him—. Hold on, don’t come yet.

Nicolás held on. He grabbed her tits with both hands, squeezed them, pressed them together to suck both nipples at once, and kept staring at her like he still couldn’t believe where he was. Carolina changed rhythm, leaned forward, bit his neck, and sank her teeth in until she left a mark. Then she straightened, arched her back, grabbed her tits herself, and started bouncing on him as if her life depended on it. The kid’s cock went in and out of her shiny with her juices, and every drop she felt him hit bottom.

—Fuck me from below —she demanded—. Move too, don’t just stand there like a fish.

Nicolás grabbed her hips with both hands and started thrusting her into him, syncing with her, each stroke deeper than the last. The noises Carolina’s cunt made were from another planet, wet sounds, sucking sounds, and she realized she was about to come at any second.

—Turn me over —she said, getting off him—. Fast, on all fours, against the couch.

She got on her knees on the cushions, ass high in the air, head and breasts pressed against the backrest. Nicolás stood behind her, grabbed his cock with one hand and fumbled until he found her entrance. He shoved in all at once and started fucking her hard, gripping her waist with both hands, pulling her back with every thrust. The impacts of the kid’s hips against Carolina’s ass echoed through the whole room.

—Harder —she begged into the cushion, biting the fabric so she wouldn’t scream—. Harder, come on, break me.

Nicolás went harder. He grabbed her hair with one hand and yanked, arched her head back, and she felt the heat rising up her spine like a fire, felt that she was close, very close. She slid her right hand between her legs and rubbed her clit in time with the kid’s thrusts. It took her twenty seconds. A brutal orgasm shot through her, making her clamp her teeth until her jaw hurt, her legs trembling, her cunt closing around the kid’s cock in waves.

And then she realized the sound of the bathroom water had changed. The stream had weakened. Diego was rinsing off.

She pulled his cock out in one motion, turned around, and dropped to her knees in front of him. She grabbed his cock with both hands, wet with her own juices, and took it back into her mouth all the way down, her head moving up and down with delirious speed. Nicolás opened his eyes wide, grabbed the back of the couch with both hands, and a few seconds later his knees started to buckle.

—I… I’m coming —he stammered.

Carolina didn’t let him go. She took him in even deeper, squeezed his balls with one hand, and a second later he finished in her mouth with a hoarse groan she swallowed by clenching her jaw around him. She felt the hot spurts bursting against her palate, one, two, three, four. She stayed there motionless, mouth full, feeling the kid’s cock still throbbing between her lips, until the last spasm passed.

Carolina swallowed. All of it. In one go. She looked up at him from below, stuck her tongue out to show there was nothing left, and stood up, wiping her lips with the back of her hand.

—Get dressed. Fast.

Nicolás obeyed like a soldier. Jeans, belt, the work T-shirt backwards and then right side out. Carolina put her panties back on —it took effort, because her cunt was swollen and still leaking—, put on the shorts, fixed her hair in front of the hallway mirror, and walked to the door. The bathroom water shut off with a dry thud.

—How much was the pizza? —she asked quietly.

—Uh… —Nicolás looked at the receipt like it was the first time—. No, leave it. It’s on the house.

—How nice.

She opened the door for him. Nicolás hesitated for a second in the doorway, as if he wanted to say something else, but she put a hand on his chest and gently pushed him outside.

—Go.

***

She closed the door without making a sound. She walked to the couch, opened the pizza box, and took a slice. When Diego came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, wet-haired and looking far more relaxed than twenty minutes earlier, he found her watching TV with pizza on her lap.

He stood in the hallway for a few seconds. Carolina didn’t look up.

—Want some? —she asked, offering him the box without looking at him yet.

Diego hesitated. Then he sighed, came over, and took a slice.

—It’s good —he said after the first bite.

—Mhm. It was on time. —Only then did Carolina look at him and hold his gaze one second too long—. The delivery guy gave me a discount.

Diego smiled without understanding and sat down next to her on the couch.

—Well. Better than nothing.

Carolina took another bite of her slice and kept staring at the screen, eyes fixed. She felt Diego’s body against hers, the heat of the shower still clinging to his skin, the smell of men’s soap soaked into the towel. Outside, somewhere in Mendoza, a motorcycle started up and rode away down the empty street.

Carolina smiled faintly, without him seeing, and passed him the napkin.