Pizza for Night?

It's Friday and I can hear some weird noises spilling out from my husband's workshop, the sort of weird noises one usually associates with getting jiggy in the small hours.

This kind of activity is unusual. Jiggy noises do not usually emanate from the workroom either during working hours or non-working hours. The words which usually emerge from that accursed place of pain and misery are typically Anglo-Saxon in origin, and not suitable for polite company.

Nevertheless, out of curiosity, and sensing some good old sexy fun in the making, I poke my head around the door.

Oh my! Result!

Alex is alone and sitting in the half dark, watching what I believe to be a Cam site. I'm not sure which Cam Site because he shut the window down almost as soon as he realised I was hovering. However, I saw enough to make a smart assumption.

"Err, mate!", I said. "There's no need to feel ashamed if you're watching some grumble."

"I wasn't," he said, looking more than a little embarrassed.

"Hey, I look in on those sites too. If you wanna watch something like that then don't get bent out of shape over it. I really don't mind."

"You don't?" he asked. "Why not?"

"They're horny. And you know me. Me likes my horny..."

"Well, it wasn't a Cam Site."

"What was it then?" I asked, still kinda curious.

"It's one of my mates, Badger," he said. "His Missus did the Pizza-Delivery Flash challenge."

"Oh, that bit of spectacular idiocy!" I said, the tone of my voice intended to openly reflect my complete and utter contempt for such behaviour. I really don't like it.

"And he sent it to you?"

Alex nodded. "And to everyone else, too.."

"Everyone else?"

"Yup, everyone..."

"Let's have a look then," I whispered, by now somewhat curious.

Alex opens up his laptop and the movie begins to stream all over again. And it's exactly what you might expect. Badger's missus opens the door to a Delivery Guy and promptly drops her towel. And whilst she has a lovely body, actually, make that very lovely, the Pizza Guy doesn't react at all. Doesn't even flinch. He just looks dower and miserable and bored. And he likely is because this may be the tenth or twentieth time this week that some bored chick has pulled the exact same stunt. Getting poked in the eye with a flying nipple is only amusing the first five or six times. After that, it gets kinda boring.

Alex thought for a couple of seconds and then said "It looks like fun. Sort of..."

"Well, it maybe does," I said. "But no. Please don't ask me to do that."

"Why?"

"Cos it's a bit shit really..."

Okay, that's his bubble well and truly popped. He looks miserable.

"How?" he asks, rolling his great big puppy dog eyes in my direction. He's trying to change my mind. Like I didn't see that move coming a mile off.

"It might fun but for who though?" I said. "What does the poor Delivery Guy get out of it? A boner that he can't deal with? Or does he whip his dick out and ask for some Lady Love? Because if he does then he's looking at Jail time."

Alex looked a bit fed up, as he often does when he's on the receiving end of yet another of my lectures. And I don't blame him, either. I can get a bit up my arse at times.

"Suppose I'm a Pizza Delivery Chick and I knock on some guy's door?" I asked. "What if this guy opens the door and he's standing there with his cock out? "

"That's different," says Alex. "That's against the Law."

"Yes, it is against the Law!" I said. "But it's not at all different if some guy turns up at our front door and I'm standing there with my foof out!"

"How?"

"Because, in both instances, the person doing the flashing intends to alarm or intimidate their 'victim'. Said victim may not actually want to be flashed. That poor sap may have been traumatised by a flasher at some point. I dunno. Maybe his Aunty Mabel was in a funny mood and ripped off her chemise. That poor guy might not be at all attracted to the person displaying their what-nots. Doesn't matter. The point is, the flashing is not accidental and it's not at all consensual. It's a violation. You have a right to go to work and not to have someone's dangly bits poked in your ear."

We continued this discussion for a few minutes longer, right up to the point where it became very, very obvious that Alex was getting very bored, and then very cross.

At this point, I decided that a retreat to the kitchen was fast becoming a necessity because I was starting to sense a major strop in the making.

That said, ten minutes later and Alex is back in the kitchen. Good news. We're all smiles and fun grooves but he looks kinda disappointed. I don't like seeing my man looking down.

"Tell you what," I whispered. "Let's adopt a compromise, okay?"

"Okay...???" he said. "What have you in mind?"

"Why don't I play the part of the 'bored girl at home'?" I said. "... and I do the Towel Drop Challenge but just for you? How does that sound?"

"Yeah?" he said, suddenly looking altogether happier.

"And you play the part of the Delivery Driver."

"Huh? Me? The Delivery Driver?"

I nod. "Yeah. Why not?"

"Really?" he shouted, unable to believe his luck. "Yeah! Wowza!"

"Good, then how about tonight, eh?"

"Tonight?"

"Tonight..."

"Really?"

"Yes..."

"For real?" he asked. "You're not just gonna drop out at the last minute and claim 'I have a headache'?"

"I promise," I said. "It's a deal. Cross my heart."

"A deal! What time? I'll even cook the pizzas myself."

And off we go.

Speaking personally, it feels good, very good, to know that I can give my husband a major league boner at the merest suggestion of the smallest bit of sexy action.

"But no cameras and definitely NO livestreams, please," I stressed. "Your mates have seen enough of my chuff of late so... No."

"Not even for my own use?"

"Maybe," I whispered. "But only on the condition that you DO NOT show it to your mates, okay?"

Alex nodded and smiled but I'm utterly convinced that he'll ignore my demands and show the photos to his friends the very next day. He does this.

So, skip forwards to eight o'click and, as per our agreement, Alex has been cooking up some pizza and the smells coming from the kitchen are beyond gorgeous. Guess I'd better deliver on my promise.

Alex found himself a suitable 'Delivery Driver' style coat i.e. a scruffy, grease-stained anorak replete with a sweaty NY bump-cap and a pair of moth-eaten Converse Pumps. He looks the part exactly. The pizzas are, mercifully, in proper boxes and secured in a 'stay warm' wrap.

Alex nips out the side door and goes to his workshop, where he has a GoPro Hero ready and waiting to be fitted to his lapel.

Meanwhile, I'm waiting in the kitchen, suitably attired. Or not as the case maybe. Unbeknownst to him, I've positioned my iPhone at the foot of the stairs and installed a little Panasonic Lumix by the door so we can record both front and rear views. Hey, I'm just as keen to record the sexy as he is. Better still, with three cameras all filming from different vantage points, I'll be able to edit the whole scene into a video, save it to a Memory Stick, and maybe slip it into his Christmas Stocking. I do this. I'm nice like that.

Here we go.

"The game is afoot," to quote the Master.

There's a testy and every-so-angry knock on the door followed by the impatient ring on the bell. My dog, Sam, now old and suffering from dodgy hips, goes berserk but then retreats to his bed because he knows Alex's profile off by heart.

I walk to the door, swing it wide and Alex calmly announces "Pizza Deliver for Knight..."

"Oh, thank you," I say, playing the part to perfection. "Let me get you your money."

I turn and this is the where my nightgown is supposed to fall off, which it does. And this is the bit where I apologise profusely and vainly attempt to make myself decent but, actually I just make it worse and end up with my taters and ass on show for all the world (and three cameras artfully placed) to see.

And Alex laughs out loud. He's ecstatic. He cannot believe his luck.

I've even back-combed my pubes so they're absolutely massive. It's like a Blacksmith's apron down there.

Alex enters as I'm fumbling around in my purse for a twenty pound note - with all of my goodies on show - and I stop and I pause.

Why's he laughing? And pointing?

He's laughing because I've put on a really, really good show (I like my sexy...) and he's pointing...

Because we're no longer alone.

Our housekeeper, Soovi, is also here.

Soovi is standing on the stairs with her hand across her mouth and a wide-eyed expression on her face which varies between "Oh My God!" and "I am sooo shocked!".

She'd scream too, if she wasn't laughing so had.

Actually, she's doubled over and laughing like a loon because... well, I'm her boss and I pay her salary and therefore I have to maintain an air of public detachment. We're employer and employee and not necessarily friends (although we are, actually).

And she's laughing because she sees me with my guard down, my impenetrable and untouchable bubble of austerity and prudence irrevocably punctured by the sight of my bare arse and tits flailing in the wind.

Okay, so who's Soovi. As stated, Soovi is our housekeeper. She's also an arts student at Durham. She's originally from Estonia and we gave her a job because she's one of the hardest working individuals I have ever met. Her standard of cleanliness puts my own to shame.

Anyway, they're all laughing and... Well... I see that there's absolutely no point whatsoever in putting on any airs and graces. The game is, as the say, up.

I casually toss the nightie that I am vainly clutching to my bosom towards Alex and do a basic arms-stretched, legs crossed, rather Vaudeville, 'ta-daaaa' pose before walking calmly into the kitchen not wearing a thing.

Alex follows clutching the pizza boxes, still beaming. Soovie enters, clapping and grinning,

Job done, I think.

Do I bother dressing immediately? No, I do not. I mean, why bother? No point in being modest. I have a killer bod and I don't mind who sees it.

That said, Soovi openly stares as I potter around the kitchen bare foot and bare arsed. She's clearly not used to this kind of nudity, this kind of openness.

Back in the Living Room, I make myself decent, in part because I sense the moment has passed but also because I sense that Soovi is feeling uncomfortable.

After that, we settle down to scarf some pizza. We will leave the in-depth camera analysis until the morning.

Soovi enters the Living Room, smiling. "I am sorry. I did not mean to intrude. But it was so funny."

I point out that all is well and that she wasn't intruding. I'm still giggling like an idiot.

"Sit down, grab some pizza," I say between mouthfuls, trying not to laugh too much. "And I'm sorry if I, or rather we, embarrassed you."

"You did not embarrass me at all," said Soovi. "We do same thing back home, as dare when first arriving at University."

Alex did a kind of double take.

"And we make film, too," said Soovi. "Upload it to internet as part of bigger dare."

"Huh?" I said.

Alex does another double-take.

Without being asked, Soovi opens her phone, scrolls down a couple of pages and then pushes the device under my nose. Alex cranes over my shoulder, desperate for a glimpse.

And, yeah, there she is, receiving said pizza from a fairly clued-in Delivery Guy and... Oops... there goes the bathrobe. "Oh! No! How could that have happened?" she says (in Estonian, I presume) and we're treated to a fairly lengthy view of Soovi's rather delectable butt.

The Delivery Guy smiles and graciously accepts his tip whilst Soovi and her Gal Pals scuttle around trying to hide their obvious embarrassment. Soovi seems genuinely unaffected by this display and stands, completely naked, in the midst of this pandemonium although the camera person has rather artfully taken the emphasis off her lower regions and seems more interested in her chest bumps.

Well, there you go. Another nice pussy to add to my Memory Palace. File under "Pussies, Nice."

Holmes would be proud.

Of course, poor Alex is beside himself. We're all adults here. We're all grown-ups. But show the man a pair of boobies or a well-trimmed bush and he's just majorly uncool.

"Parents not approve," continued Soovi. "Keep saying 'What about your future plans? Who will give you job if you are on the net without clothes on? You will only get work as Stripper.' And I say 'Good. I earn plenty more money working as Stripper,' and they not like that. Not at all."

I'm a little shocked by this revelation. Shocked but also highly amused.

"Also, I make film without clothes on," said Soovi. "That really annoy them."

Say what? Say again?

"My father?" says Soovi between mouthfuls. "He was furious. He still furious. Wanted to throw me out of house. Make me go live with Grandmother or Decrepit Aunt. I go anyway and live in Tallinn with slutty friends. My mother? She smile a lot and say she wish she had done something fun and exciting like that when she was my age instead of marrying old bore like father."

"Film? What sort of film?" asks Alex.

"Not porno, if that what you think," said Soovi. "No, proper film with proper story and plot, with real sets and a script, and a director too. Based on a historical story."

Alex's eyes are out on stalks. His hand is stuck in mid-air, a lump of steaming hot pizza wilting in front of us.

"How did that happen? What did you do?" I asked. "And can we see it?"

"I was what you call 'Featured Extra'," said Soovi. "That is proper term. I had speaking role."

"A friend of a friend," continued Soovi. "She was working on movie and knew I wanted to be a proper actress. I do Play by Beckett at school and take acting lessons. Proper acting lessons. So they ask me to read the script and do a screen test, and I got the part."

"What was it about, this film?"

"About historical figure from Estonia," said Soovi. "Our folk hero, Juri Rummu. You would say he was Estonia's Robin Hood. A bandit who robbed from the rich and give to poor, only robbed from wealthy Barons and never killed anyone. And we made film of his life."

"And what was your role?"

"I play Hooker," said Soovi, grinning from ear-to-ear. "A prostitute..."

Alex nearly chocked on his pizza. Talk about Dark Horses.

"Yes, I play prostitute and fall in love with Juri. Then Juri falls in love with me," said Soovi. "Just small part in film, but I speak a few lines. Enjoyed it. A lot. Get paid well, too. But..."

"But what?"

Soovi smiles. "My father sees film, is furious. Kicks me out. Tells me to go. Get out of country or he will tell my brothers to kill me. Which is why I am in England."

"Is it on Youtube or Amazon?" asks Alex, his eyes pretty much glazing over. I shoot an awkward stare at my husband, which he ignores. Like I said, uncool.

"No, it not seen much outside Estonia." said Soovi. "But I have DVD somewhere. I will fetch, if you want."

"Please do," I whisper, smiling.

"It is Estonian," replied Soovi. "And has no subtitles."

Soovi disappears for about 30 minutes and I can hear all sorts of banging and flipping up of boxes and then a few curses, which are, I suspect, not English. She returns, her hands empty.

"I cannot find," she says. "It will be with my other luggage, probably in store room."

It's already late, well after ten, and Alex has to be on site by six in the morning so an early start is essential. "It'll wait," says me. Alex curses. Audibly. He can wait too.

The following morning, with Alex out of the house for the greater part of the day, Soovi enters the kitchen looking somewhat sheepish.

"I found DVD," she says. "And look at it on computer. I think it too much for Alex to see. He will get wrong idea."

We head through to the Lounge and pop the DVD into the player. Soovi takes charge of the remote and, from what I can see of the first few minutes, it's a modern film, shot in wide-screen with good lighting and excellent camerawork.

Soovi fast-forwards to her scenes with Juri and... Hey wow, I'm instantly jealous. It's not just one scene. It's three, combined.

In the first, there's a bunch of girls standing in a line, naked. They're wearing scarves around their faces so they won't recognise the famous Bandit but otherwise they're unclothed. The camera spends a long, long time looking over the line of ladies and we get to see a lot of what makes them ladies. I note that they didn't shave much in 19th Century Estonia. Curiously though, if the film is as historically accurate as they allege then it would appear that the Estonians were certainly pioneering breast augmentation surgery nearly a century before the rest of the Developed world.

Just sayin'...

Soovi pauses playback every now and again, and points out her friends, who also had small roles.

"That is my friend, Looda," says Soovi, pointing to a tiny girl with a waist to die for and boobs that are so perky they defy gravity. "She is super hot. Works as Lawyer. Earns big bucks."

Soovi points to another girl. "That is my neighbour, Moon," she says. "She got married to movie sound guy. Have baby. Not very happy though. Long story."

I look along the line of bare breasts and beautifully rounded bottoms and, yes, one of those girls is, from her height, her stance and hair colour, very obviously Soovi.

Juri picks two of the girls from the line-up and they escort him, all bare bums and bouncy boobs, to an upstairs room. My heart is pounding. This movie is an exhibitionist's wet dream. I wish I'd been one of those two girls.

Let me just repeat. Lots and lots of bare backsides and bouncy boobs.

This is amazing. My fantasy made real.

The second scene - Soovi, another girl and Juri are all in bed together, having a damned good time. Plenty of tribbing, some fake blow job scenes, and finally Soovi with her backside in the air taking a hammering from behind whilst she jams her head into the other girl's crotch.

It's all fake, of course. The angles are wrong, the positions designed so that the camera sees nothing that might corrupt the viewer. Certainly no cocks and pussies. Boobs are okay. Bums are okay. Pubes? Sort of. But the full Monty? Nope.

Still, it is kinda cool.

Okay, I'm getting more than a little moist down there, to the point where it's becoming uncomfortable.

In the third scene, Soovi is running naked through ankle-deep snow, and pleading with Juri not to leave her behind. Juri goes anyway and a very cold and very naked Soovi is left standing, waving as her beloved slowly recedes into the distance. She's completely naked in this scene, by the way. I thought I'd mentioned that again just so you know.

Still barefoot, she then walks back to the Whorehouse through even more snow, which is now tumbling about her shoulders, and she never sees her hero again.

Sad, but such is life.

Soovi smiles and looks at me. "You think it too much?" she whispers. "For Alex? Will he get wrong idea?"

Well, I'm feeling a little giddy, frankly.

My knickers are just one big soggy mess and I just know that as soon as the opportunity presents itself I'm going to tactfully withdraw to the privacy of my room, lock the door behind me, and then rub one out otherwise I'll not get a thing done for the rest of the day. That's all three of my favourite ever fantasy scenes all rolled into one, and I am positively and absolutely dripping wet. I'm surprised there isn't a puddle on the floor. Actually, I look down just to make sure there isn't.

But reality bites hold. We live in the real world and such a film, were it to be openly displayed, might encourage Alex to imagine what I'm imagining - that rolling around in bed with the rather delicious Soovi, and putting those make-believe positions to the test for real, would be a good way to spend an afternoon.