Delivery guy's creepy staring turned me on~
I never thought something like this would actually happen to me. It always felt like one of those wild porn scenarios you fantasize about but never expect in real life. But last night… it did.
My friend and I ordered a pizza, and while we waited, I took one of those long, steamy showers — the kind that leaves you warm, soft, relaxed… and a little turned on. I didn’t bother with underwear afterward. Just my usual: a tight crop top barely covering my tits, and clingy shorts that hugged my ass. No bra. No panties. Just thin fabric on damp skin.
I wasn’t planning to leave the bedroom — my friend said she’d get the door. But when the bell rang, she was MIA, locked in her room. So I ended up answering the door to the delivery guy, and holy fuck he did not hold back with the staring.
He didn’t even try to be subtle. He had dark eyes, and a look that turned downright filthy the moment he saw me. His eyes dropped instantly to my chest — my nipples were hard, clearly visible through the thin, soaked cotton of my crop top. The top clung to every curve, and I could feel the cool air teasing my skin, making my nipples even more erect.
His gaze roamed down my body, lingering on my hips, the swell of my thighs, the way the shorts were riding up — tight enough that the outline of my pussy was impossible to miss. He took forever pulling the boxes out of the bag, like he was giving himself time to drink it all in.
I should’ve felt uncomfortable. Violated, even. But instead, I felt a rush of heat between my legs. My breath caught. My pussy throbbed. There was something so wickedly thrilling about being ogled like that — about knowing he was imagining ripping my top off me. And I didn’t stop him. I stood there, dripping wet, my nipples rock-hard, letting him stare.
When I handed him the tip, his fingers brushed mine, his eyes still glued to my chest. I finally closed the door, pulse racing. My thighs were clenched so tightly I could feel the ache building between them, and if I’d been wearing panties, they would’ve been soaked through. My pussy was throbbing, needy, turned on in the filthiest way just from the way he looked at me — like I was something he wanted to unwrap and devour.
I have such a kink for being objectified — for being seen, watched, stripped bare by hungry eyes — especially when men talk to me whilst blatantly checking out my body, like he isn’t blatantly eye-fucking me.
And the truth is… I crave that kind of raw, unapologetic lust. The way that delivery guy stared at me is burned into my mind — bold, shameless, possessive. I haven’t stopped thinking about it. And how maybe… just maybe… I’d leave the top off next time.
My friend and I ordered a pizza, and while we waited, I took one of those long, steamy showers — the kind that leaves you warm, soft, relaxed… and a little turned on. I didn’t bother with underwear afterward. Just my usual: a tight crop top barely covering my tits, and clingy shorts that hugged my ass. No bra. No panties. Just thin fabric on damp skin.
I wasn’t planning to leave the bedroom — my friend said she’d get the door. But when the bell rang, she was MIA, locked in her room. So I ended up answering the door to the delivery guy, and holy fuck he did not hold back with the staring.
He didn’t even try to be subtle. He had dark eyes, and a look that turned downright filthy the moment he saw me. His eyes dropped instantly to my chest — my nipples were hard, clearly visible through the thin, soaked cotton of my crop top. The top clung to every curve, and I could feel the cool air teasing my skin, making my nipples even more erect.
His gaze roamed down my body, lingering on my hips, the swell of my thighs, the way the shorts were riding up — tight enough that the outline of my pussy was impossible to miss. He took forever pulling the boxes out of the bag, like he was giving himself time to drink it all in.
I should’ve felt uncomfortable. Violated, even. But instead, I felt a rush of heat between my legs. My breath caught. My pussy throbbed. There was something so wickedly thrilling about being ogled like that — about knowing he was imagining ripping my top off me. And I didn’t stop him. I stood there, dripping wet, my nipples rock-hard, letting him stare.
When I handed him the tip, his fingers brushed mine, his eyes still glued to my chest. I finally closed the door, pulse racing. My thighs were clenched so tightly I could feel the ache building between them, and if I’d been wearing panties, they would’ve been soaked through. My pussy was throbbing, needy, turned on in the filthiest way just from the way he looked at me — like I was something he wanted to unwrap and devour.
I have such a kink for being objectified — for being seen, watched, stripped bare by hungry eyes — especially when men talk to me whilst blatantly checking out my body, like he isn’t blatantly eye-fucking me.
And the truth is… I crave that kind of raw, unapologetic lust. The way that delivery guy stared at me is burned into my mind — bold, shameless, possessive. I haven’t stopped thinking about it. And how maybe… just maybe… I’d leave the top off next time.
9ヶ月前
