Grunt Orders In

My name's Grunt. I deliver pizzas. Not just any pizza, but the fuckin' Gucci of pizzas: Three Guys From Italy. Well, to be honest, it's one guy from Hong Kong named Chef Dong. He studied for years in Italy, and his stuff could harden even Mama Celeste's nipples.
It was Monday, my day off. I was on my way home from a hard workout at the gym. My legs were still feeling a little sore from all the heavy reps. But it was a good sore. After all, I had to keep this former military body in shape. I rubbed my bicep that had the letters "USMC" tattooed on it. Semper Fi!
Fuck, I get horny after the gym! I had to hide my raging boner in the showers or else I'd get kicked out. And now I could feel my dick stiffening again walking home from the gym.
What do I look like? I'm tall, broad shouldered with short dark hair and eyes with a goatee defining my face. I've got a barrel of a chest and wear my shades most of the time. I guess that's why most people think I'm a cop or a bodyguard or something. But, no, Grunt's delivers his pizzas. And I work those tips, man! I'm equal opportunity. I like all types, man.
And though I look intimidating, I'm really gentle, especially when my big dick is fucking a nice sweet ass. When Grunt delivers, he delivers! Let's just say I got me a lot of repeat customers. Little did I know that today I was going to get my own special delivery...Asian style.