- Tito Delivers
For the following two weeks I lived in an erotic daze -- my adolescent dreams fulfilled, my infatuation with Tom growing by the day. Every morning I woke before he did, gazed at him stretched across the gulf between our beds and fantasized about his morning woodie and what might follow. Inspired by the sight of his cock blooming and beginning to feel the stirring in my own, something like erotic morning music would begin somewhere deep inside me -- humming in about say middle C. I would quietly cross the gulf to stroke him ever so softly till he stirred, hummed and opened one eye.
"I thought it was you. I suppose you wanna do that again," and he'd smile a half smile as if gathering himself.
"Well, I guess, but only if you want to."
"Can I wake up first?"
"Only if you don't go down, now I've got you up."
"Not to worry. Since I moved in with you, I never go down all the way."
"I heard that Eagle Scouts are ever ready, like batteries."
"It's true for me if not for the limp wristed kind of scouts." I watched the pride rise in his eyes. "I suppose you want bottom?"
"Only if you want top," and I'd stroke a little faster so his crown bloomed through his foreskin which was what really turned me on. By now he knew for sure.
And then he'd fuck me after he peed. We usually fucked in his bed where I felt more and more at home with the heat of him and the smell of him and the sight of him coming back from the john, his cock swinging and filling as he walked and climbed over me under his sheets. I was falling in love with everything man to man.
Of course, I'd only do this -- I mean get him to fuck me -- every second day or so. I didn't want to wear him out, and I needed some down time too, because exams were coming and there was all that history of the East I had to master not to mention stat, which I look to please my father, and in between orgasms we both needed to eat something other than cock or ass, even though the only appetite I really had was for Tom's black mane, his baby blues and his magnificent cock, like a light house every morning with a lamp that never went out. I felt insatiable and Tom seemed inexhaustible, we were on the perfect honeymoon. It seemed every time he fucked me it felt deeper and better. As soon as we both came and collapsed, I'd begin dreaming about the next fuck and the next, better and better.
I was hooked because our fucking wasn't always the same. One time I felt like a kid all the way through, like was I playing with my favorite toys -- his foreskin, his balls and his cock -- and he was playing with mine. He was a teddy bear and seemed to feel the same way I did. And when we both came, not at the same time, cumming felt almost like an afterthought, even a letdown because we were having so much fun, but it wasn't the same for Tom -- the teddy bear disappeared, he needed to come fast, and my gut told me I dare not leave him hanging.
One time I wanted him in me so bad I'd do anything he wanted and that brought out the tiger in him. I was pure pussy, eager open, yielding -- do anything you want, tiger -- just fill me and make me cum. I think he liked that the best, as much as I could tell from that gruff, distant voice I heard when he came in me. It sent me through the roof. And there was one time when I felt like a tiger myself and he almost let me fuck him. He seemed needy in a deeper kid kind of way and let me finger fuck him almost to climax, but then he suddenly turned me over so for a minute we were battling tops but then I gave in and we plunged into me and we came together, so fast it was almost a surprise, as if there was no time to lose.
That's how it was, fucking almost every day like newlyweds, till our one-week anniversary the Thursday before the three day weekend that was coming up. I literally drooled with anticipation about his cock in my mouth or his tongue in my ass, as often and as much as I wanted. That morning he went off to his rehearsal for Deep Throat, that's the male acapella quartet he sings in. When he came back he was really pumped. They'd just gotten a last minute invitation to perform at a song fest on the weekend. Tom was over the top because he sang lead on most of their numbers and was going to go, fuck the lab experiments. There would be judges and prizes and stiff competition. He couldn't ask for more. He was a performer, liked an audience, loved to star.
The news hit me like a cold shower, but I didn't say anything more than Hey, great,' because all of a sudden I didn't want to admit how much I would miss him. The quartet cut class, rehearsed all day, pooled their money, rented a car, and then he left, with a quick See you Tuesday morning' over his shoulder. As soon as he rushed headlong down the hall with his duffle bag banging against his tight round ass, I felt how much I would miss his heat and his meat in the morning.
I said to myself, `Now's your chance to crack that history text and sweat out those stat problems. Whoever heard of a standard deviant anyway, but there it was: the reality of higher ed kicking me in the ass, or more accurately, between my legs in the nuts. OK, no problem, I'm an adult male, I can hack this.
After two hours of first empire history I was bored and famished. No way I was going to try stat, and anyway I was famished. Over the long weekend, my favorite fast foods in the food court would shut down, so I decided to call for pizza. What I didn't think of was did I have any cash? Cash strapped but not knowing it, I called Tito's Pizza, our favorite carry out, and ordered a medium pie with double sausage. Half an hour later there were two quick raps on the door, and I heard, "Tito's delivery, double sausage for -- uh -- for Zach."
"Door's open." I expected the same high school kid with zits who usually delivered to the dorm. Instead there was Tito himself, notorious with the guys in the lounge for having "varied preferences," as Nick put it. I'd never seen him before and the sight of him stunned me: maybe five two, caramel colored skin, curly back hair and lush eyebrows, bedroom eyes and a basket now full of fruit and nuts, the kind any girl -- or any guy -- would die for.
"Ola amigo, take it while it's hot." I must have looked as stunned as I felt. Pause, then, "You Zack?" I nodded. "Where you want it?" His English wasn't very good, but his ass was sensational and by the size of his bulge, so was his cock.
"Uh, right here, on my desk," I said. "How much?' Tito walked toward me with a lot of hip action, took the pie out of the case and set it gingerly on my desk. "You don't care grease spots?" He stood right in front of me in skimpy white shorts, no socks, and a black tee that said `Tito's We Deliver'.
"Ten thirty seven, but for you good customer nine fifty." His delivery man always offered that discount because they were pricey but good. I reached for my wallet, shrugged and ducked -- I knew I only had a five.
"You still don't take credit cards or student meal tickets do you. I mean the kid won't."
"No credit no tickets, cash only."
"Shit, I've only got a five -- " I felt stupid and helpless.
"No problem, other way to pay." I was puzzled until he put his hand on my thigh and dug in his thumb. That woke me up to what was going on. This was beginning to feel like a third rate porno.
"Maybe Nick was shittin' me and you don't go for us hombres?" Tito had dropped the fake Latino accent, did a one-eighty and then dropped his white shorts. As I suspected, no underwear. He arched his back and pushed his smooth, caramel cheeks, just inches from my face. `He must shave every day,' I thought. Then I caught a hint of scent from his hole, was that chilies I smelled or just lust? Or maybe just good customer service.
Tito turned around and thrust his hips toward me and his stubby cock swung into view, five inches bobbing forward from his black bush. My weakness for black bushes got my middle C humming. My weakness for caramel flesh stirred my cock and I began to feel middle C rise to C sharp.
"You advertise like this a lot?" I was touching and stroking his uncut cock, searching under the skin. Did he feel the way I feel when Tom does that to me?
"Only when a regular from the fifth floor orders a single pie with double sausage. Then I give the pimply kid a break, you know, to show the customer in person what I mean by `Tito's We Deliver'." He let me stroke his cock and it swelled toward me, the head blooming out of his swarthy bud till he made it stand straight toward me, as if he meant me to take it in my mouth and milk him, but instead he turned and spread his cheeks. They looked chewable like caramel candy.
I grabbed one cheek, then both and squeezed.
Then over his shoulder, "Which do you want today, the usual?"
"Do I have to choose?"
"When you order double sausage, I figure one or both, but then my sausage works in both top and bottom." He flexed his cock close to my mouth. "Decide, your pizza's getting cold."
"Screw the pizza, I'll eat your butt first, then I'll take top."
"Good choice, Tito's favorite too. For you, just today, no charge," and he straddled me, his firm brown thighs flexing against mine and raising my middle C by an octave. Our two cocks were now side by side, his foreskin rubbing against my shaft.
"I like to ride so I can tease you -- like this." He already had a drop of precum on his slit, and he slowly wiped it off with one finger and spread it on my lower lip. More chilies. "Appetizer," Tito said. "Mamacita taught me to start with a small slice and hold the real chilies till later."
"I wanna taste your ass to see if Mamacita was right. Turn around and bend over." He did as I ordered, and I felt a surge of macho dominance come over me. Middle C dropped an octave.
"Don't do gourmet number on my hole, Tito's always clean and ready, just plug in. I got another guy on six in half an hour, he loves Latinos just like you."
"For free?"
"No way, muchacho, I like you but he's a little kinky, you know, OK in small doses, but never free. Rich boy likes water games, messy but profitable. Gives me a big tip every time I deliver. Now gimme your first finger, get me ready for him." Somehow I liked the idea of being part of a threesome, and I suddenly realized that Tito was really a rent boy, and pizza was just a front. His services had cost more than nine fifty, double digits easy.
"Can I watch?"
"Sure, good for business. You can surprise us, and I'll get a bigger tip." The idea really turned me on and I slipped in two more fingers and reamed his hole till it felt just the right tight for my cock.
"Bueno, amigo, double digits good, now fuck me slow. I warm up and then I take you to heaven. Tito delivers." I pushed the head of my cock into his hole which opened wide to receive me and I drove in. Tito gasped, "Aye, you feel good, nice hot rod, fills me, feels good. Now fuck me so we get acquainted, make your balls knock against my ass so I'll know who you are, gringo, inside and out." Rent boy had figured out that dirty talked really turned me on.
"Gringo, huh?" I plunged into him up to the hilt, my balls tightened to the shaft and they banged against his butt as I began a fucking search for his prostate the way Tom searched for mine. The thought of Tom while fucking Tito seemed to make a threesome all right then and I revved up, riding Tito and driving to the climax. On the way I found his trigger and set him off -- I imagined Tom was fucking Tito with me, two of us tangled so we we fit both cocks in Tito's cunt, my cock rubbing on Tito's prostate and Tom's foreskin massaging mine at the same time.
"I'm cumming Tom, cum with me."
"Aye, si, si, cum conmigo!" and we both came. Tito covered the floor beside my bed with a pool of thick cum as white as he was brown and I shot his ass full, finishing hard against his hole, panting and seeing stars as I did when Tom sent me over the top. "Oh Tom, your ass is so tight so hot. I can never get enough of you."
"Quien es Tom?"
I pulled out of Tito and thought for a moment of licking his cum up off the floor. Did he taste like Tom? "Oh, nobody you know, just a dream lover."
"Muy kinky, amigo. Pero es tarde, It's late, I gotta go." He put on his shorts, tee and shoes. "Tell your buddy Tom I said `ola, muchacho. Me gusta mucho esto Zack', enjoy your pizza," and he was out the door.
For a moment I was stunned. How did he know Tom, my Tom. Was I the only one here who didn't know what was going on? I hated feeling behind the curve. I would sure ask Tom.
I mopped up Tito's cum with my briefs and thought briefly of adding them to my collection, even jacking off in them in the morning, tucking them under my pillow as a remembrance -- sort of like Proust except my madelaine was a taco with chilies. Then, I remembered what Tito had said in Spanish -- me gusta? `This is making you fucking crazy, Zack, you know that?' Sure, so what, just growing pains.
I flopped down on Tom's bed -- Tom's gone, Tito's gone, I'm feeling like a groom left at the altar and fell asleep. I woke up an hour later and thought `I wonder who the rich guy is on six -- water games? Kinky.' and opened my stat book. Nothing like stat to bring you back to reality.