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Foot Worship

You’ve got to be kidding me. I think to myself as yet another snooty soccer mom doesn’t tip on her order. And yet, I smile, thank her and wish her a wonderful evening. I deliver dinner all across town; some people tip and others don’t. But for some reason, tonight was not my night. Seven stiffs in a row. Doesn’t matter if I carried six bags of steaming hot pizzas up three flights of stairs, or if I go the extra mile and bring all the fixings. I sigh and shuffle back to my car and ease my way back into traffic. Soon, I arrive back at the restaurant where my boss is in a mood. He’s holding the door open, with his hand gesturing for me to hustle. I park, and sprint into the store. I internally groan, I was eight minutes early! And it was me who needed to rush, pft! I swallow my frustration and move through the motions to leave on yet another delivery. I pull up at a modest house in an average neighborhood. I quickly check mirrors to be sure that it isn’t my unkindly expression driving customers away. Nope, makeup is still in place and my long braid is still neatly plaited. I double check the address one more time as well as the name on the order: Samuel. I jog up to the house and knock politely on the door. I wait ten seconds before knocking again, and still no answer. I roll my eyes. If you order the food, don’t be surprised when it shows up! Just as I turn around to leave, I hear the door open. I look over my shoulder at Mr. Tall, dark and handsome. My breath escapes my chest and for a second, I forget how to breathe. I quickly gather myself, and ask “order for Samuel?” He nods and looks me up and down. I blush and look to the ground. I’m wearing tight jeans and a neon shirt with a ridiculous logo on it. I try my best with my facial appearance because that usually affects my tips. But there’s nothing I can do about the awful uniform. I revert back to auto-pilot and hand him his meal and engage in a quick, friendly conversation. “Any fun plans tonight?” “No,” he responded curtly. My customer service façade dropped for a second. Most people don’t respond so bluntly. As I composed myself, I looked him over once more. He had to have been about 6’2” not much taller than my 5’11” but his stature is what dwarfed me so completely. He held himself like a lethal weapon ready to strike. I shivered, it’s eighty degrees out and I’m quivering under his cold, hard stare. Get your head in the game! I shake my head quickly, to clear my mind. “There’s always something to do on a beautiful night like this,” I say with a genuine smile. The clouds were just rolling in and the air around was rife with electrical charge and humidity. I love rain and thunderstorms, but there’s something so sweet about a warm rain. I bring my gaze back from the sky and down to the intimidating specimen before me, and for a second, I catch him staring pointedly at my ass. There’s a deep hunger in his eyes that catches my breath again. I bite my lip as I exhale. His husky, muscular frame is wrapped in delectable jeans and black shirt. When my eyes reach his again, there’s understanding behind his thick lashes. A small smile curls his lips. “Would you care to come inside?” He said with a voice that could’ve melted chocolate. “Yes, please” escaped my lips before my brain had a chance to catch up. Once over the threshold, he closed the door with a decisive click. The entry way was bare, but homey. A small table with a round bowl, presumably for keys and loose change. Above that was a plain mirror, and in the corner was a ficus or some form of shrubbery. I’m facing this mystery man; my arms laden with his meal. My pulse pounds in my ears. Stupid, stupid! Part of my brain yells. But I can’t quite hear her voice over the carnal desires and fantasies whooshing through my head as fast as a hummingbird’s wings. Without a word, he takes my delivery bag and sets it on the table. “I can see you already have many ideas, but all I really want right now is that mouth.” Samuel stands back, his arms folding across his chest; an open challenge or invitation, I’m not sure. A shy smile escapes, as I drop slowly to my knees. My cheeks burn as he approaches. “Oh, my. Have we got a good girl? Or a dirty whore?” He unzips his pants and pulls out his thick semi-erect cock. Giddy joy fills me as I part my ruby red lips around his shaft. I love cock. I love the taste and look. I love rolling my tongue along every inch, and grazing my teeth gently against it. A moan escapes my lips as I push each heavenly inch deeper and deeper into my throat. I look up at Samuel, and emote the happiness I feel. A grin forms on his face as he grips the back of my head. Further, he pushes my mouth down. I feel myself gag and tears spring to my eyes. He eases his grip and I repeat my motion; leisurely learning each inch. I then slide my right hand slowly up his leg to his balls, massaging them. His breath hitches, and I accelerate my rhythm, taking him deep into my throat and back out again. I feel his hand close lightly around my throat, a silent question hanging in the air. I moan and deep throat his cock as hard as I can, taking every inch down to his base. He squeezes my throat, and removes his cock from my mouth. He squats in front of me so that we are at eye level. He stares into my soul as if I’m some sort of puzzle he can’t solve. He releases my throat and kisses my tender lips. His lips are rough and possessive, but mine are just as unyielding. A growl rumbles in his chest and he stands back up; quickly replacing his cock into my mouth. He slides himself in and out of my waiting mouth; soft moans escaping his lips. I can feel my body building towards climax as my mouth is used so so thoroughly. I look again into his eyes, and see his need for dominance and his need for control, and I let him have it. I moan against his length and shift my thighs together to assist my release. Just as I cum, I feel him shoot his load into my mouth with a primal roar. I savor the saltiness and stroke him with my hands and my mouth. Once his cock is sufficiently cleaned, I kiss the head just once, and stand up. I gather the items that fell out of my pockets during the encounter while he signs his check. “Maybe you could deliver again?” he says as I stride out of his door in a daze.

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