I didn't forget about the woman who answered the door wearing nothing but a towel and ended up closing it wearing nothing but a smile. I didn't forget about her by a long shot.
That night, as I lay down to go to sleep, visions of her flooded my imagination, and it fueled a fantasy that gave me a raging hard-on.
In it, she invited me in, closed the door and asked if there was something besides money she could do to give me a tip.
As I stammered, looking for words, she said she couldn't really afford to give me a blowjob; that was something she reserved for her husband.
But he liked sloppy seconds, and I could fuck her.
I imagined her setting the pizza down, turning away from me, grabbing hold of the foyer banister, spreading her legs, and thrusting her ass and a path to pink pleasure at me.
I woke up, hand around my cock, cumming hard.
One of the drawbacks to my job, along with classes, was that I had precious little time for a social life. Thus, no girlfriend. My social circle was at the pizza shop.
My store manager, Chloe, was an animal. In her late-twenties, she was bullish, busty, boisterous and sensuous, all wrapped into one. She was broad shouldered, and except for her abundant curly brunette hair, full bust and unmistakably female ass, she could easily have been mistaken for a man. She could out-cuss a sailor, and despite the 'tough-guy' persona she projected, when nobody else was around, she was soft-spoken, almost oozing an 'I want to get close to you' sensuality. Definitely feminine.
I don't know that you could say we had a 'relationship', but we definitely had a rapport. And for whatever reason, I'd managed to earn her trust and confidence, and inexplicable as it was, she'd calm down and listen to me when she was in a rage and no one else could get through to her. I didn't understand it, and neither did she, but it worked.
The rest of the store crew was comprised of four girls and fifteen guys; one girl delivered for the store, and the three others worked the phones or made pizzas. The other guys worked as little as one night a week, while a few, like me, worked as close to full time as we could get.
When I took the pizza to my towel-lady, Chloe was gone for the night.
She came in at quitting time, though, beer in hand, bored out of her mind.
She spent ten or fifteen minutes talking to Darrell, her assistant, then came and found me.
"Darrell tells me you had an interesting run earlier," she said.
I looked over at her.
"Yeah," I said, "I guess you could say that."
Chloe laughed.
"What's so funny?" I asked.
"You are turning so fucking red," she said, sitting her beer down and leaning against the counter.
I could feel myself flushing, my face getting warm.
"So," Chloe said, her amusement dissipating. "Was she good looking?"
"Yeah," I replied.
"Yeah?" Chloe asked. "That's it? Yeah?"
"What do you want me to tell you?" I asked.
"What did she look like?" Chloe asked.
I described her briefly to Chloe, not going into too much detail.
"So she had nice tits?" Chloe asked.
I felt myself flush again.
"Yeah, she had nice tits," I said as Chloe laughed again.
Darrell called out to Chloe and she walked off.
A few minutes later, she walked up behind me, and I was aware of her presence for about a half second before she grabbed my ass and whispered into my ear.
"Have a good night," she said. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Later that night, I was in bed, my hand around my cock and stroked off thinking about towel lady.
The next night, Chloe was running the store. Darrell and I were her closing drivers.
I caught grief from just about everybody that night about towel lady. On the other hand, I enjoyed something akin to sudden rock-star status.
Renee just laughed and shook her head; Cheryl, a little bit of a prude, turned about fifteen shades of red and stayed quiet most of the night. Danny, Steve and Rick were in awe.
"Buck naked?" Danny asked, eyes wide in amazement. "Stark, buck-ass naked?"
I nodded.
"You have seen a naked woman before, haven't you?" Chloe asked.
Stunned, Danny looked at her, at me, then back at her and nodded.
Business was dead that night, and with three hours to closing time, we'd thinned down to just Chloe, Darrell and me.
"This sucks!" Chloe slammed the pizza paddle on the counter. "Ring, you fucking phones, ring!"
Darrell shook his head.
"They ain't gonna ring just 'cause you break shit, Chloe," he said.
Chloe took a sip from her beer. It was against company policy to have beer in the store, much less to drink on the job, but she still did it. At the moment, she was carrying a light buzz.
"I know that," she said, spinning it on the counter.
"So tell me again about this woman you saw naked last night," Darrell said. "What was the address?"
"I'm not telling you," I said. "I might get another delivery there."
"They call in, I might take the run," Chloe said, grinning at me.
Darrell laughed.
"Did she have any tattoos?" he asked.
"None that I saw," I replied.
"Nothing like this?" Chloe asked.
Darrell and I looked over at her in time to see her pull her pants down, baring her ass to us.
A unicorn, soft pastels in blue, pink, purple and a bright gold, garnished the left cheek of her ass.
"Nothing like that," I replied without missing a beat as Darrell laughed.
Later, with less than a half hour to closing, we were well on our way to having the store clean enough that we might all get home at a reasonable time.
I had just finished washing the last of the dishes when Chloe walked up and leaned on the sink beside me.
"You know I'm just giving you shit about last night and that I don't mean anything by it, right?" she asked. This was the softer side.
"I know," I replied.
Chloe leaned into me and put an arm around me; half a hug.
"Good," she said.
"You gonna stay and follow me to the bank tonight?" she asked, stepping away from me toward the office.
"I guess," I said, shrugging. "You don't want Darrell to finish it out?"
"Nope. He's going home as soon as he gets back to save on labor," she said. "We can handle this."
I left five minutes later on the last delivery of the night.
When I got back, Darrell was asking Chloe one last time, was she sure, absolutely positive she didn't want him to stay.
"Yes. I'm sure. Go home."
Darrell glared at me as he walked out the door.
I walked over to the make line to police up the last of the food.
"I've got this," Chloe said, looking at the clock. She handed me her keys.
"Go get your drops and start checking yourself out," she said. "I'll finish up."
My eyebrows raised. This was not like her. None of the drivers checked themselves out. Ever. It wasn't just company policy, it was a baseline way for the manager to make sure his or her numbers stayed straight. And Chloe didn't trust anybody.
"Go," she said, picking up the tray of random ingredients. "You're one of the few here that I trust, so I know you're not gonna short me."
I shrugged, grabbed my tickets and went to the office.
I'd hit a mark with Darrell a couple of months earlier, and now, it appeared, with Chloe, where both trusted me enough let me cash myself out.
I was just about done when Chloe killed the lights. The only light left in the store came from the drink cooler, the office and the residual lights that stayed on round the clock.
"Finished?" Chloe asked as I finished shuffling my money.
"Yeah," I replied, leaning back and looking over my shoulder at her.
"Good," she said.
The office light went out.
Chloe sat her beer, I'd lost count, on the counter next to me, and leaned over the back of the chair, and put her arms around me and hugged me.
She sighed heavily, kissed me on the cheek.
"You know Phil and I split up last month?" she said, standing up and moving around me to lean against the wall.
"Yeah," I said. "I heard."
He was more than thirty years her senior, and none of us had a clue what she'd seen in him.
"He liked the money I'm pulling down, but he didn't like my hours," she said, pulling her shirt free from her pants.
"Know what that makes you?" she asked.
"No idea," I replied. I was genuinely clueless.
"The only person I can really talk to," she said. "I mean really talk to."
"Chloe..."
"No, Mike," she said, "I'm serious. Don't worry, I'm not gonna break down and cry or anything like that.
"But you're here all the time," she said, "I'm here all the time...."
"Darrell's here all the time," I said.
"Darrell's a walking penis," she said. "He is without a doubt one of the most arrogant pricks I've ever known. He honestly thinks a woman is out of her mind if she doesn't want to sleep with him."
I'd never quite heard it phrased that way before.
"You on the other hand," she said, leaning forward, "are quiet, unassuming and a gentleman."
She took my face in her hands and kissed me.
Not on the cheek like before; on the lips.
