Starting out as the new milkman in Buenos Aires during this brutal heatwave is no joke. By the time I hit my third delivery, my uniform was drenched, clinging to every curve of my body. So when this handsome client swung open his door and offered me something cold to drink, I was stepping inside before he even finished the sentence.
He leaned casually against the kitchen counter and started telling me how tight he was with the previous milkman. Real close. The kind of close that came with generous tips, if you catch the drift. His eyes roamed slowly over my soaked shirt, drinking in every detail of my sweat-slicked chest and clinging fabric. Trust me, the message came through loud and clear, and I was more than ready to pick up right where the old milkman left off.
What started as a routine delivery quickly turned into a steamy afternoon encounter between two guys who knew exactly what they wanted. The heat outside was nothing compared to what unfolded inside that Buenos Aires apartment, as this generous client showed me exactly why he was such a loyal customer, and I made sure to earn every peso of that big tip.



















