Keith was exhausted and desired the softness of his bed to pass out in. Fortunately, there was only one last stop for him. And in the back of his mind, he hoped to find some form of reward for his hard labour.
But even if he hated his job, he was determined to carry it out perfectly. He needed the money more than anything. He just turned eighteen two weeks ago and is hoping to leave for college shortly after graduating. Bad news is, his parents have to keep up with the insanely high rent in L.A., plus having three other, much younger, children to take care of. Why they haven't moved to somewhere more livable for the family is a question he has held for years.
On top of that, Keith hasn't received any updates on the many scholarships he applied for. And it's not like he doesn't qualify; no, he has been a good, hard-working student for the last four years. Never getting any grade below an 80, volunteering in the community, and tutoring those who need help.
The only real flaw is his social life not being the most impressive. He had a decent amount of friends and isn't aware of anyone who 'hates' him, but never had the balls to ask a girl out (which is ironic because his testicles are massi-).
So, at the beginning of senior year, he landed a job at the post that really asks a lot from him. He had to deliver mail and packages to five different neighbourhoods, each well-way apart from each other and all the transportation he had was his bike. He would take the family car, but his dad always has shifts that overlap. And the pay is shit. But it pays. And so he works.
Even if he feels like he's being beaten down by God or nature or society or any other external force, he always has one thing to look forward to at the end of every shift. Waiting for him on the other side of the door of a Hollywood house sitting on the near edge of a small mountain was a smoking hot, bootylicious, redhead cougar.
He of course knew she wasn't just any smoking hot, bootylicious, redhead cougar; he lives in Los Angeles for god's sake. He knew that Bryce Dallas Howard was the one who always greeted him with the warmest smile imaginable.
Keith, being a young virginal black man, had a natural attraction to an older white lady like Miss Howard. But that's not it. More often than not, that smile isn't the only thing Keith has his eyes on when she greets him.
It started off normal, her wearing wearing dresses, robes, or anything else casual. Then she was in workout clothes sweating; still pretty normal, but a wiring in his brain definitely shortcircuited for a split second.
No big change for a while after that, and then she was wearing a dress with a neckline so deep that he's pretty sure his eyes rolled downwards into his socket. Oh, and no bra either, her nips were ready to pop through. When he finally regained his sight and consciousness, he swore he caught her staring at the obvious bulge in his pants while signing the form.
A couple of shifts later, she shows up in a bikini, one that showed off her milky cleavage
way
too well and looked like it was about to snap due to the size of her rear stretching it so much. This time she didn't even try to keep it a secret.
"Bet the ladies at school are clawing at each other to get to you," she joked, pointing at the immense outline in his grey sweatpants.
He stammered for a good few seconds, understandably not knowing what to say before she giggled and pulled out a bill that was stuck between the bikini string and her bare ass.
"For your troubles, handsome," she said, handing the $500 bill to him.
Again, he was speechless, but she managed to wedge it between his fingers before turning around and walking away. And there was no way she didn't intend for him to see her huge ass swaying side-to-side, she didn't even close the door!
He reached the entrance and rang the bell, package in hand, nervous in excitement. For some reason, their previous encounters didn't prepare him to see a topless, and bottomless, Bryce Dallas Howard. Her hair was a mess, her legs were shaking, and her makeup was ruined. Although, she
did
have a seemingly fresh layer of red lipstick, highlighting the ecstatic grin that she donned.
"Hey handsome," she greeted, clearly out of breath. She wasn't even trying to cover up her breasts, or her vaginal area.
"M-Miss H-Howard," Keith stuttered, "I-I'll turn around until y-you c-cover-up-"
"Nooo, I'll take that from you, thank you," she took the package from his hands and turned away to set it on the ground, giving him a clear view of both holes. "Now," she said, facing him again with that big smile, "the form?"
Keith managed to hand her the clipboard without dropping it, a miracle considering the display of utter beauty standing right in front of him. While she was signing, he caught a figure walking across the room behind her.
He was a tall, extremely well-built black guy, stretching his arms and yawning. The only thing he was wearing was a pair of speedos, which did poorly in hiding what he had going on down there. Bryce noticed Keith looking over her shoulder and craned her head around and just laughed.
"Don't worry about him, that's just Jamal."
No further explanation. She has remained incredibly calm. Meanwhile, Keith is shaking, wanting to get on his bike and leave, but at the same time, not being able to take his eyes off her body.
She gave him back the clipboard and told him to wait a second. She then came back with $750 of cash, and a slip of paper which she kissed. She gave him one last smile and a wink, then closed the door.
Keith didn't move a muscle, still, slack-jawed at the sight of one of the hottest milfs in Hollywood casually talking to him nude. He finally looked down at the piece of paper in his hands and read a phone number, a red kiss mark, and a message.
"
What's your name, stud?
"
He swung himself back on his bike and rushed home. His legs should be numb after the amount of peddling, but he raced through the door and up the stairs, ignoring his mom calling him for dinner. He punched the newly obtained number in his phone, and after a second of hesitation, sent a text.
"
My name is Keith, Miss Howard
."
"
Nice to finally put a name to that handsome face ;)
," she responded.
Keith didn't know what else to text after that.
The next few shifts he didn't give anything for the celebrity. He couldn't tell if he was disappointed or relieved. Well, yeah, he was a little disappointed. But it was probably for the best.
Then one day, he suddenly got a text from the sugar mama herself.
"
I have a package I need you to get.
"
"
But not at my place.
"
"
This is the address. Drop it at 9:30 tonight and those tips will look like nothing
."
"
Be the sweet boy that you are and be there, okay? :)
"
Whelp, what other choice does he have?
The address was a pretty far ride, and the area didn't make it look worth it. Nothing but dimly lit buildings and homeless people. The actual building barely stood out, but it was the only one with a bouncer standing at the entrance.
"S'up man," Keith greeted, "here to drop this off. Can I come in?"
"Leave it here," the bouncer said monotonously, "and I'll finish the job."
Keith nervously chuckled. "Look, man. I got very specific directions from this
fine
ass chick, and that chick ain't no one to mess around with, you got it? She is Bryce. Dallas. Howard."
"Yeah, she a regular here."
"So you know how important this-"
"She just another regular here, brother. Whatever she is to you ain't nothing special. We got plenty of thick ginger movie bitches in there."
"W-Wait, what!?" Keith stammered out. "You saying you got so many famous people in there that
Bryce Dallas Howard
doesn't mean anything to you?"
"All she is another white chick with a fat ass, one that I haven't gotten my dick deep inside yet. Point is, busy white bitches like her need a place to relieve some stress."
Keith couldn't comprehend all this. "What is this?"
Before the bouncer could answer, the door swung open and out came a pale figure, dressed in nothing but extremely thin lingerie. Standing next to the bouncer made it look like the two ends of the color spectrum.
The delivery man's eyes first went to her strikingly blue eyes, then dropped to her barely covered chest. C-cup minimum, DDs maximum, he thought. She looks familiar, he also thinks. He kept looking back and forth between the two destinations, and that kept going until she snapped her fingers in front of him.
"Hey cutie," she said with a smile. "Guessing that's for Miss Sweet Cheeks?"
"M-Miss s-sweet cheeks?" Keith stumbled.
"Yeah, that's what we call her around here," she scanned her eyes over the young man, biting her lip in approval. "You know, she said you were cute, but I didn't really expect much. Only saying that because she has a bunch of others, mind you."
As she walked closer to him, Keith suddenly wasn't able to keep eye contact and his eyes were glued onto her milky tits. And no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't look in any other direction.
"So, you coming in?" she asks, staring expectedly at him. "Or are you gonna leave that package out here for yourself? Oh, and the Bryce's as well, I guess."
Keith picked his jaw back up and nodded. The woman gave him a beaming smile and winked at the bouncer before turning around and leading Keith into the building. He only just realized how hard he got when he found it really uncomfortable walking.
"Oh shit," he cursed, "you're that chick from True Detective, ain't ya?"
She turned around and leered. "I am indeed. Alexandra Daddario. Bet I can guess how you recognized," she said teasingly, shaking her melons.
Keith feels like he's getting more comfortable; it only took him 5 seconds to snap out of the trance she put him under.
"Eh, no," he replied. "These things weren't covered in the show."
He immediately wanted to smack himself after saying that. One of the most gorgeous celebrities alive was flirting with him and he says
that