Domino’s Pizza Boy: Part 1 [MF] [True Story]

One of my first jobs in high school was as a Domino’s pizza delivery boy. It was a good job, paid well, and left daytime free for school and whatnot. One Saturday night there were two drivers on shift, myself and Aaron. All the best stuff happened to Aaron. He was cool, he was in college, and all the girls liked him. In fact, Aaron had the best story among the drivers: two topless girls once answered the door for him – and gave him a $5 tip to boot. We were all jealous of Aaron.

It was a little before 11:30 p.m. and Sophie, our manager, just had Aaron and me move a new Pepsi refrigerator against the front wall, but was having second thoughts about where it should go when two pizzas came out. Aaron was on tap for the first pizza – an $18.00 everything but anchovies, the pizza everyone wanted to deliver partly because we worked on commission, and partly because people usually handed you a $20 and said keep the change – $2.00 being a great tip in those days. Of course my delivery was a $5.50 small cheese pizza, the worst one you could have. Once again, all the best stuff happened to Aaron. (Keep in mind, if the coin had landed heads and not tails, it would have been me taking off with an $18.00 EBA and Aaron would have been delivering the measly little cheese pizza…)

Aaron left for his delivery and I did for mine. I knew the address, an apartment complex six or seven blocks away, and I was pretty sure I recognized the apartment number as well. I didn’t remember specifically who lived there but it certainly wasn’t anyone who had made an impression.

I arrived, rang the bell,and was surprised to see an attractive young woman, somewhere in her early 20s (23, I learned later), wearing a silky negligee-type robe, tied shut around her waist.

Certainly this was a pleasant turn of events, particularly for a horny 18-year old high school senior, but as of yet this wasn’t all that unusual a circumstance. People answered the door in all manner of casual attire, especially that late on a Saturday night.

She introduced herself (her name was Beth) and invited me in to put the pizza on her dining table while she rifled through her purse looking for cash. Again, not at all unusual, but I happily went with the flow. As she dug through her purse she made small talk, along the lines of how was my night going so far, was it a busy shift, that sort of thing. She told me she was down from San Francisco visiting a friend for the weekend, but her friend had left her alone for the night.

At this point Beth had my complete interest, and I made the decision to follow her lead and see where that would take us. I cheerfully engaged in her small talk, told her how my shift was going, and in return asked about her day. She replied in kind, seeming to forget the money she was nominally searching for. We continued to chat for a good minute or two, when she asked if I wanted to watch Saturday Night Live with her, which had just started (and which is how I remember it was a Saturday night, right around 11:30).

Now she more than had my complete interest. My every sense was attuned to her and her intentions. If making small talk in her entry way instead of paying me and sending me on my way was approaching the line, asking me to join her on the couch was sticking a toe, nay, an entire foot over it. I readily accepted, and we sat side-by-side while listening to the guest’s monologue and continuing our banter.

After another two or three minutes I knew fully well that the line had been crossed, and I was intensely interested to see where it would lead. BUT, being the oh-so-responsible sort I was – and still am, truth be told – I did have the little nagging issue that I was still on the hook to perform my occupational duties.

So I leaned over to her and said, “I’m still on the clock.”  Beth looked me in the eye and said, “How soon can you be back?”

I must have broken every land speed record back to Domino’s, where I dashed in and told my (attractive young as it turns out) manager Sophie that I HAD to be clocked out right then because I had just met this attractive young woman and had to go back to have sex with her.

Sophie – and Aaron – looked at me dubiously. I could tell they weren’t sure what to make of this incredible sounding story and whether I was just trying to get out of the rest of my shift. Sophie said okay, I could get clocked out, but first she needed me and Aaron to move the Pepsi refrigerator back to its original spot.

It had taken Aaron’s and my combined strength a good five minutes to walk the refrigerator, inch by inch, to its current position. I took one look at it, leaned my shoulder in, and with three solid pushes – wham, wham, wham, the refrigerator was in its new, desired place.

I saw Sophie’s and Aaron’s eyes grow wide as the recognition dawned on them that, shit, this story was for real. Sophie clocked me out in record time, and I dashed back to the apartment complex, the entire way thinking, what if this is all some big setup, what if she’s there with her boyfriend to mug and rob me, what if there’s no answer at the door, and all that. But I still made tracks back to the apartment.

I knocked on the door, my heart in my throat, only to find Beth answer it, still in her negligee/robe, still tied around the waist. Wow, not sure I was entirely expecting that. But cool, I was delighted to go with it. She invited me in, and we resumed our position on the couch, where Weekend Update was just about to start.

In short order we found ourselves kissing. I remember her great technique, and the way her body moved under mine. Eventually I started kissing her cheeks and her neck, then slowly made my way down to her chest.

The robe/negligee parted enthusiastically and revealed beautiful perky breasts. Neither large nor small, they were perfect handfuls, and her nipples stood fully erect under my lips and tongue.

I continued my slow migration down her stomach to the warm fuzzy wonderfulness between her legs. She leaned back and parted them for my eager lips and tongue. But I had learned even at that early age to take my time and not stampede straight for the clitoris, so I played and teased for what must have seemed an eternity, as she arched her back and writhed in front of me.

Finally I made my way into her bush – recall, this was the early 1980s – and thoroughly enjoyed every sensation her warm, wet pussy had in store. She seemed to enjoy it just as much and screamed her enthusiasm, her body convulsing in time with her shouts.

At that point it seems she had gotten what she had wanted and sweetly but firmly let it be known that I was welcome to go on my way. When I was younger my telling of the story was that she and I had had sex – and by a certain definition we certainly had – although that was the extent of it and my cock had never made an appearance. Nonetheless, I was thrilled by the night’s events and couldn’t have been happier at how it had worked out, so I said my goodbyes and made my way home.

But not before giving her my phone number. Which in my heart of hearts I never expected to actually get used.

Which, as it turns out, was an entirely incorrect assumption. Because I got a call from her the next day inviting me to join her for more – along with a friend of hers. But I’ll leave that half of the story for a future post.

And to this day if you ask me if she came up with the $5.50 or not, well, I must admit I have no recollection whatsoever.

#DominosPizzaBoy #PizzaDeliverySex #FirstJob #Beth

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/cfw2fw/dominos_pizza_boy_part_1_mf_true_story