Nothing less! My 25th birthday was coming and I vowed, the 25 days leading to my birthday, there would not be one day where I did not have sex, of some sort, with a different guy; hell might as well celebrate.
The first one up was Jackson. Jackson owned a pizzeria and functioned as the delivery guy as well. I had been with him before, several times in fact, and I was in need of a jump off and he was the one.
He was 36 years old standing six feet and about 200 pounds of muscle, he was a good first candidate.
I called and ordered my pizza.
"Pizza for You. Pick up or delivery?" his voice had a slight lilt to it. He knew it was me; caller ID and all. His Italian accent was as thick as his dick.
"I need a late delivery please, extra large with all the works." He knew the codes.
"Yes, ma'am. Would you like something to drink with that?"
I could tell his dick was already stirring.
"Yes, whatever you bring." I breathed deeply.
"What time would you like to schedule that delivery ma'am?"
His erection pushing against his jeans.
"Your last run will be fine, thanks, I need to hop in the shower anyways."
I offered knowing he liked when I was freshly showered. He said he liked sucking the moisture droplets from my body.
He dropped the phone, quickly regained his composure, feigned getting my address and hung up.
Jackson arrived precisely at 1:10am. The pizzeria closed at eleven. He had to go home and tuck the wife and the kids in, shower, go back to the pizzeria and cook my pizza; a girl had to eat. He had already went to the liquor store and bought my favorite drink - Friz Vodka.
I opened the door barely clad in a towel. He stepped inside and handed me my treats.
"I've missed you." He said as he started to remove his clothes.
It had been about three months since we last spent time together.
"Really?" I pretended to be surprised.
Jackson was an Italian in every way, he liked to take control, except when it came to me. I gave him what he could never imagine to get in life, not even from his wife.
Jackson liked to be fucked up the ass. He loved eating my puss and giving me what I needed, sliding that dick in my wet hot puss in a masterful way.
Then it was his turn, something he could never tell his wife. He lay on his back and I lay on top of him, sixty-nine style as usual. While he sucked my puss I sucked his dick and fucked him with a dildo. I went at it like a man in a house full of 18 year old whores.
I earned my two-hundred-fifty dollars. (Did I forget to mention there were fees attached to my pleasures?) In all honesty I think he gave me the money to help ensure my confidentiality. It worked. He shot his load into a towel he would take with him and throw away in some dumpster along his way home.
I ate my sausage and bacon pizza, had a few drinks and went to bed. Day one was a good start.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~DAY TWO~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I went to class the next morning, with the thought of finding Mister Day Two on my mind. It didn't take too long before I spotted my next victim. I slowly walked over to him, making sure he knew I was coming his way, by never losing eye contact with him.
"Preston. How are you, darling?" my perfect southern drawl at play.
"Jendeh, what up baby?" he said into the side of my face as he kissed my cheek.
"I need to talk to you about a party I want to give, can you meet me after classes at my apartment?" I was damn near purring.
He tilted his head to the side, "Aww man, I can't." he said with a smack of his lips, "Me and Lacy are going out for dinner, can I call you later?" his mouth said no, but his eyes said yes.
The dork Preston had been talking to took this moment to leave saying he would call him later. I took the only opportunity I would have to bed him.
I leaned closer to him and whispered in his ear,
"What I want to discuss with you needs to be soon, like now maybe?" I let my lips brush his face.
He looked around the hall at the students rushing off to their classes,
"My first class starts in about ten minutes, can you meet me in the old video editing room say in about," he glanced at his watch, "twenty minutes, you know let the class get under way." He smirked.
I agreed and went on my way, just waiting and longing for those twenty minutes to pass. In the mean time I went to my English Lit class and thought of Preston while Mrs. Slaughter droned on about English Diplomats.
Preston was six months shy of earning his Masters Degree in Business Management, but he was a DeeJay by trade. He was the go-to-guy for DeeJaying the best parties. He knew who had the best weed, he traveled with the best looking guys, and he also knew where to sneak away to get a quick hit.
Preston was a true blond-haired-blue-eyed boy, but he dressed as the popular black kids did, he talked like they did too. He was what we called a blond-brotha. He carried his 220 pounds well on his six foot one inch frame. Preston came from money, and of all the girls that swarmed around him, Lacy was the only one his family approved of, she came from money too. Though he never hesitated to take a walk on the wild side, you had to understand that was all it was going to be with him, no one replaced Lacey.
I arrived to find the door slightly ajar to the VER. I slipped in and closed the door behind me. The only light was the one from his flashlight.
"Don't turn on the lights, I don't want anyone to know we are in here." His voice a rumbling whisper.
Once my eyes adjusted, I glanced around the room that was mostly empty except for some old video equipment and boxes. There were a few chairs thrown about, of which he was already sitting in one.
"I know this is not about the party, so you want to sit on my lap and get at it and we talk later?" he smiled.
