The Pizza Boy Cometh
Callum had taken the job because of its evening hours, allowing him to study during the day, but the money helped. He had never imaged himself as a Pizza Delivery Man, but compared to the other jobs on offer at the employment agency it was a pearl. It was easy enough work, his employer provided him a scooter, he raced around the neighbourhood delivering pizzas within thirty minutes or the customer got their money back.
He couldn’t deny there was also the erotic potential of the job. So much of the porn he had read or seen involved delivery men, especially pizza delivery men. He knew porn wasn’t real but the hope could be nice, one day he’d deliver a pizza to hunky man who’d want to make love to him. Since he’d started university, his sex life had got worse, not the sex marathon he’d hoped for. He was so busy with his studies and so short of cash that his sex life had dried up. Delivering pizzas hadn’t improved it much, though it had helped his bank balance, but he still hoped.
That Friday had been mild for February and for once the work was quiet. It was ten-thirty when he was sent to that mansion block with a double chicken-supreme. He’d been told to wait outside until someone came to collect the pizza. When he arrived it had started to rain and the building’s doorway offered little shelter. He’d barely been stood there a few minutes before the rain soaked right through his jeans. Sod the instructions, he thought, and pressed the buzzer for flat twelve .A moment later the intercom crackled into life:
“Who is it?” The voice on it demanded.
“Pizza delivery!” Callum barked back.
In reply the front door swung open on an automatic release. Callum pushed his shoulder to it and entered the building. He quickly run up the two flights of stairs and was soon outside flat twelve. Strangely there wasn’t anyone standing at the door, waiting for him. Callum knocked on the door.
The door was yanked open and Callum found himself face-to-face with a near naked man. The man was only wearing a pair of grubby underpants, but Callum didn’t find him attractive. The man was the wrong side of forty with a fat belly hanging over. His chest, belly and legs were covered in thick black hairs, though the man’s head barely held onto a rapidly receding hairline. The man actually reminded Callum of his own father, a guaranteed turn off.
“You’re rather scrawny,” the man said. Callum was about to complain when the man grabbed hold of him and pulled him into the flat.
“Hey, aren’t you going to pay me,” Callum exclaimed.
“Only after you’ve serviced me, pizza boy,” the man replied and pushed down the front of his underpants. Callum actually saw grey pubic hair before his eyes shot back to the man’s face.
“Wait,” Callum said as he backed away from the man, but he only managed two steps before his own back hit the closed front door.
“Shut up and suck my cock! Then I’m going to fuck you stupid. You pizza delivery boys are all the same, you’re all fucking whores!” The man snapped at him.
Callum now felt really afraid. This was no longer strange but was rapidly getting dangerous and he had his back pressed against a closed front door, his only escape.
“I’m not into this!” He screamed back at the man.
“You fucking are! I fucking brought you here!” The man shouted back, pushing his face into Callum’s.
Callum panicked and lashed out. Dropping the pizza, he hit the man hard in the chest with both of his fists. With the full force of his strength, Callum spent the man falling downwards. The man’s arms flailed outwards and his head stuck the low cupboard behind him with a loud crack. Then it was all quiet.
He just there for a long moment, actually catching his breath, before he moved. Then it was to bend forward and look at the man. He was lying on his back with his eyes wide open but no other movement. The man’s chest didn’t move, either did his eyes or lips. Callum didn’t look any closer, he didn’t check for a pulse, he couldn’t touch a dead body; he just grabbed up the pizza and fled out of the flat.
He ran down the stairs, not daring to look back. The man was dead, the thought screamed in Callum’s mind, and he’d killed him, and they would blame him, and...
As he rushed into the building’s entrance hall a voice, shouting at him, stopped him in his tracks.
“Where the fuck have you been?”
The voice belonged to another young man, about the same age as Callum, though he was dressed in a running top and very tight jeans, his hair obviously bleached blonde.
“What?” Callum mumbled.
“You were supposed to wait for me outside. I was only two minutes late. I’ve got a client in this place and he wants the pizza delivery boy fantasy and what kind of pizza delivery boy would I be without a pizza? Though fuck knows it won’t get eaten. Who’d be an escort with all these shits and their brain-dead fuck-fantasies. Now hand it over,” the young man almost blasted his words at Callum.
“The pizza,” the young man replied.
“Yeah,” Callum mumbled, as the young man snatched the pizza off him and shoved twenty pounds into his hands.
“Flat 12’s on the second floor,” the young man asked.
Callum simply nodded his replied as he watched the young man run up the stairs. Then he just stood there, alone, in the building’s entrance hall, his entire body frozen to the spot, and waited.