The Pizza Party

Melvin turned his neck around to see that Bridget wore only a black bra and panties. Her breasts heaved beneath the bra, the milky round tops curving up and out, begging to be caressed and kissed. Her shirt and skirt were discarded in pools of clothing next to his couch. Melvin couldn't believe she'd allow herself to be seen in this state of undress not only by a complete stranger but by another woman as well.

"We're having a pizza party," Bridget said, her hands slipping into Melvin's shirt and running along his bare skin. Two fingers playfully tweaked his left nipple. This did nothing to help the erection pointing through his pants.

"Looks like quite the pizza party," the pizza girl/punk chick said with a sly smile. She pulled at her bottom lip with a finger, her nail painted purple to match her hair and contacts.

"Wanna slice?" Bridget purred. The pizza girl checked her watch and bounced on the balls of her feet, evidently trying to decide what she should do. She could always tell her boss that her bike got a flat. Of course, she'd used that excuse a thousand times, and he probably would fire her just for having the gall to try it on him again. Then again, the pizza place would be closing up shop pretty soon, anyway. After a moment, she looked up, her mind made.

"Fuckin' right I wanna slice, slut," she said and grabbed Bridget by the hair, pulling her face close, and shoved her tongue down Bridget's throat. The pizza box fell to the floor and the door slammed shut, sealing the three of them inside of Melvin's apartment.