Customer Relations

Delivering pizza wasn't much of a job, but it helped
keep me in school, and it did give me the opportunity to meet
some very interesting people. Such was the case with Lance
Gilbert.

Mr. Gilbert was one of my most frequent, and better
tipping customers. Judging by the way he eyed me up and down
when I made his deliveries, I was almost certain he had a
crush on me, which I found flattering as hell given the fact
that he was such a great looking guy.

Gilbert looked to be in his mid to late forties. His
eyes were a steely, blue-gray, set off by his graying hair.
He was an exceptionally attractive man with a sexy smile and
what appeared to be a firm, lean body. He was also the
fatherly type, which really turned me on.

Late one evening, as my shift was ending, I made a
delivery to Mr. Gilbert. As luck would have it, his was my
last stop, so when he invited me in to chat, I was able to
accept his hospitality.

"Tell me, young man," Gilbert asked, "do you go to the
university?"

I nodded. "My first year."

I noticed his eyes widen as they fell wantonly upon the
bulge that had begun to fill the basket of my jeans. I was
so attracted to the man I couldn't help becoming aroused. I
sensed that the lust was mutual, no one had ever looked at me
with such yearning before.

"If you attend the university, you must be older than
you look," said Gilbert. He visibly beamed with excitement
when I told him I was only eighteen.

"It must be very lonely being away from home for the
first time. With school and work you probably haven't had
much of an opportunity to meet new friends?"

"You're right about that," I said. "I'm afraid my
hectic schedule doesn't allow much time for socializing."

Over a bottle of wine, Mr. Gilbert and I spent the next
two hours talking. Time had gotten away from me, before I
knew it, it was two A.M.

"Why don't you spend the night," Gilbert suggested. "I
have a perfectly wonderful guest room. You're welcome to it
if you like."

"I appreciate your generous offer, but I wouldn't want
to inconvenience you." I shivered from head to toe when he
reached out and gently place a hand on my knee.

"Don't be silly. I feel as though we're old friends. I
would love to have you as my guest."

My cock twitched restlessly in my pants. I gave him a
school boy grin and reached out and patted his hand. I knew
I should go back to the dorm, but I heard myself accepting
his offer. He was elated, his stare becoming so tense I
could almost feel his eyes caressing me. He was all but
panting by the time he got around to showing me the guest
room.

"It's a bit warm in here don't you think?" said
Gilbert. "Why don't you take off your shirt? Or better yet,
why don't you let me take it off for you?"

I stood as if I'd been encased in ice as Gilbert came
toward me, his hands reaching out to unfasten the row of
buttons that ran down the face of my shirt.

"I'll bet a hot, young stud like you jacks off a lot."
His hands were now pressed firmly against my bare chest,
sliding up over my shoulders, causing my shirt to fall down
over my arms. "You ever get caught playing with cock?"

"Only once," I confessed. "By my dad."

"What happened?" Asked Gilbert.

"Nothing happened!"

Sighing, shaking his head, Gilbert said. "I would have
given you a good spanking." I shivered as he ran his hands
down my smooth torso.

I snickered coyly. "My dad's a pretty understanding
guy, and besides, I was sixteen, a little old to be spanked."

"Nonsense," Gilbert rebutted, unfastening the front of
my pants, stripping me down to my boxer shorts. "You're
never too old to be spanked. My cock was stabbing out against
the front of my underwear like a tent pole.

"Tell me," said Gilbert. "Exactly how long has it been
since you were last spanked?"

I couldn't remember exactly. I shrugged. "I was a kid;
ten or so, I suppose."

Gilbert took my hand and rubbed it over the enormous
bulge straining against the crotch of his pants. "Then
you're long over due," he said, gasping as I squeezed his
hard cock.

He took my hand and forced it between my own legs. "If
I was your dad, I would spank you for touching yourself like
that."

"Don't you think that would be a little excessive?"

Gilbert smiled. "Sometimes a little discipline is just
what the doctor ordered."

I wasn't so sure I agreed with his philosophy, but I was
intrigued enough to be horny as hell.

"Be honest," said Gilbert. "Right this minute, if you
were alone, you'd be stretched out naked on the bed, stroking
that big, persistent hardon that's been nagging you since
you arrived. Am I right?"

I wasn't accustom to such candid talk. He was making me
blush, but I was willing to play along. "Okay, let's assume
you're right, and you were to come along and catch me beating
my meat. What would you do?"

"Oh, that's easy," said Gilbert, reaching into my
underwear to feel me up. "I'd have to put you across my knee
and give you a spanking you'd never forget."

Oddly enough, the thought of feeling his hand stinging
my buttocks turned me on even more. It didn't take a genius
to see that Gilbert was bursting at the seams to play Daddy
Dearest.

"I'm not sure I fully understand this discipline theory
of yours," I said, shrugging naively. "I guess you're going
to have to show me."

Gilbert was so overwhelmed with the prospect of spanking
my bare ass, he was on the brink of hyperventilation. This
was a whole new scene for me. I hoped I wasn't making a
mistake.