The twin moons of Vagilla Areolus were just peeking above the skyline when my Venus 4000 came to a stop. I was on my last delivery of the day and already looking forward to going to evening bible study. Grabbing the last pizza from the warmer I hopped off my scooter, punched in the address on the front portal of the building and was instantly transported to the front door of the Morecock residence.
“BZZZZ” the buzzer buzzed.
“Scanning. One moment please,” droned the android voice.
I felt a pleasant tingle as the scanner verified my identity, watching as my image came up on the screen. I smiled, pleased at how good I looked. When I wasn’t delivering pizza, I was a cheerleader for CLIT - The Center for Learning & Intelligent Technology. I was very pleased at how in shape I kept, being on the squad! My delivering uniform, consisting of a pair of tight white shorts and an orange tee that was practically painted on and showed off my slim young athletic body, accentuating my budding curves and a pair of boobs that jiggled and bounced and had been voted most likely to turn gay men straight.
Beneath my ‘Pizza Slut’ cap my blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail and my bright blue eyes looked friendly and enthusiastic. Not to brag, but I had been won the award for ‘Most Likely to Leave a Smile on Your Face’ award three months in a row!
“Scanning complete. Please enter.”
The door swung open and in I went, pizza held before me.
“Extra large maple bacon and squid Pizza with extra oysters,” I announced to the couple on the couch.
“Would you mind putting it on the table while I verify delivery?” asked a very handsome older man, presumably Mr. Morecock. He looked quite fit despite having a hint of grey at the temples and was very tall. His wife was much younger and had long silky dark hair and the light blue skin, decorated with tastefully lewd tattoos, of a native of Perineum 5. She looked very exotic.
I left the box on the table, checking my wrist reader to make sure verification had been completed, pausing when I saw the added tip. O.4 sparkies! That was more than I made in a week!
“I think you made a mistake, Mr. Morecock,” I announced. I was, after all, a good Christian girl, and my conscience wouldn’t let me accept what was obviously an inputting error.
“A mistake?” He asked, one eyebrow raised.
“The tip. It’s too much. Do you want to cancel the transaction and adjust it?”
“How about we give you a way to earn it, instead?” Purred Mrs. Morecock, tapping her slender finger on her wrist sensor, smiling as the lights began to dim and music began playing.
‘Bam chicka wow wah. Bam chicka chicka wah’ it went. In the background I could hear a female voice moaning softly. It was a porntrack. They were illegal, of course, but even someone as wholesome as I knew you could find them on the blue web pretty easily. I’d even listened to one as a dare during a sleepover with my cheerleading squad. It had made me tingle uncomfortably and had left me with a little wet patch on my virginal white lace panties. Unsure of how to react, I shuffled my feet as the sound continued, aware that it was affecting me now as it had then. I closed my eyes and tried to think pure thoughts as the porntrack wormed it’s insidious way into the very fiber of my morally upright being.
“How? I finally asked, blushing heavily as my suddenly fertile imagination kicked into overdrive and I envisioned doing incredibly naughty things with the Morecocks who had, by this time, repositioned themselves on the couch and were patting the empty space between them.
“I am sure it’s been a long day. Why don’t you sit down and relax.”
“I really should be going. I don’t want to be late for bible class,” I stammered. And yet, my feet betrayed me and carried me over to the couch. I sat and she scooted closer than was generally considered polite.
“Why don’t you start by telling us your name?”
“Bonnie, Mr. Morecock,” I murmured, fidgeting as Mrs. Morecock stroked my bare arm with the tips of her scarlet nails. “But my friends all call me Bunny.”
“Bunny. Such a cute name. And why don’t you call me Lance?”
“And you should call me Sapphire. You have very lovely skin.”
“Thank you, Mrs. More- I mean, Sapphire.”
“You look warm. Why don’t you take your top off?”
It was rather warm, or at least I was, and it seemed like such a reasonable request, so I took my top off, making sure my Pizza Slut cap was still atop my head, revealing my white lace bra.
“You have such lovely boobs, Bunny! You must be very proud of them.”
“I am. A little,” I admitted, blushing. I did like my boobs and I even liked the way guys sometimes tried to look at them without me noticing. Of course, I always pretended not to notice so they wouldn’t stop.
“Have you ever let another woman touch them?”
I thought back to our cheer squad sleepover when I’d let Cinnamon Sinfield touch my right boob and how good it had felt and how much I’d wanted her to touch it longer, only we’d both chickened out.
“Once,” I admitted, breathlessly, feeling the damp spot between my legs growing at the memory.
“Would you like me to touch them now?”
I should have said no but I felt all my self-control evaporating as the porntrack kept playing and Sapphire kept running her nails up and down my bare arm. Worse, I could feel Lance’s thought pressing against mine!
“Yes.”
“You’ll have to take your bra off for me, Bunny.”
Hesitantly, I undid my bra, which conveniently hooked in the front and let her help me remove it, secretly pleased at the soft intake of breath coming from Lance as my boobs were revealed. Embarrassingly enough, my nipples were all swollen and tingly as the air hit them and I let out a soft sigh of pleasure when Sapphire ran her nails is a tightening spiral around my quarter-sized areola until she finally brushed my sensitive marshmallow shaped pink nubs. Meanwhile, Lance had removed my Pizza Slut cap and was running his strong thick fingers through my ponytail, tugging playfully.
“You have nice hair, Bunny,” he whispered into my air. His breath smelled of confidence and experience.
“And nice tits,” added Sapphire.
“I bet she has a nice pussy too. Do you, Bunny? Have a nice pussy?”
“I don’t know.”
I really didn’t. I thought I might, but I didn’t really have anything to compare it too and I certainly had never let anyone, other than Peter at Peter’s Pussy Piercing Emporium, see it and he’d had to, after all, when I’d gotten a gold barbell through my clitoral hood.
“Why don’t you show us, then. I am sure it’s just as adorable as you are.”
“I don’t know,” I mumbled shyly, my cheeks heating up.
“Please, Bunny? I promise not to look. Only Sapphire will look.”
“You promise?”
“Cross my heart,” Lance replied solemnly, although there was a twinkle in his eye that gave me pause.
“Have you ever let another woman touch your pussy, Bunny?”
“No,” I whispered. I hadn’t but I’d thought about it even though I’d never told anyone, especially not my best friend Katy because then I’d have to admit that I thought about her touching my pussy. I’d even touched myself late at night, under the covers, thinking about it.