Not Her Type: Erotic Adventures With a Delivery Man (12 page)

Before she had even spoken the words, Jenny
knew they were the ones he’d been longing to hear, that the mention of the 69
would be the final straw for John’s patience. His boxers were off and, with a
shriek, she found herself being catapulted into a fireman’s lift over his
shoulder.

Marching upstairs, John demanded, ‘Which is
the bathroom?’ As she pointed he bashed open the door, setting her, dizzy and
disorientated, into the empty bath. Closing his eyes and taking slow breaths,
John yelled, ‘Take those ruddy clothes off, woman!’

Watching him with fascination as goose-bumps
spotted her skin, Jenny dumped her lingerie over the side of the bath. His
length was so unyielding, she couldn’t see how he was going to relax enough to
piss over her before he came.

Through gritted teeth, and with a
succession of concentrated and rather
labored
breaths, John opened his eyes, and
before Jenny had time to consider what he was about to cover her in, her chest
was being sprayed with a fierce jet of pee that scorched her already enflamed
flesh.

Trickles of yellow liquid dripped from her
nipples and coated her globes, flowing in streams down the contours of her
belly, navel, and her thighs.

 
‘Just disgusting!’ John smiled. ‘Look at yourself, dirty
girl, just look!’

Jenny stared at her sodden body as
instructed, amazed by how fantastic it felt to have his urine thrash her.

Reaching for the shower attachment, John
blasted it into life, directing the gush of water onto Jenny’s breasts. She
screamed as the icy douse chilled her to the bone only seconds after his piss
had warmed her excited skin. Her hands rose to protect her tits, but John
grabbed both her wrists in one fist, and held them away as the water slowly
altered from tepid to warm, until it was hot, too hot, and Jenny yelled out
with the new kind of pain.

Just as her right nipple began to burn, and
her whimpers turned to cries, John changed the showerhead’s position, dropping
it to just above Jenny’s nub. ‘How sensitive is it down there, then?’ Switching
on the cold tap, he swapped the intense heat for freezing cold, making Jenny
flinch and cry out in shock all over again, as her first climax was triggered
by the concentrated flow of water.

Shutting off the shower, John bundled her
into a towel, and, panting hard, his own personal control at breaking point,
said, ‘Bed?’

Jenny dashed ahead of him into the
neighbouring
room.
Still enveloped in the towel, her body dotted with spots of water and her tits
stinging from the intensity of the shower, she grabbed John and pulled him onto
her across the bed.

Using all his strength to grapple free from
her dogged grip, John flipped her over onto her stomach. ‘Put your hands on
your arse cheeks and pull them apart for me,’ he ordered.

Doing as she was told, Jenny felt
blissfully helpless as his sheathed dick stabbed into her fully opened slit and
his right hand struck her sides, arse, and back in time to the movement of his
hips. Jenny’s belly constricted into a thousand knots as John’s cock hardened
further, her channel spasming against him. Both coming in a mutual, bed-cloth-muffled
cry, they rolled against the duvet, a tangle of arms and legs.

Not ready for their time together to end,
Jenny blurted out, ‘I haven’t told you the best bit yet.’

Impulsively, John pushed Jenny onto her
back, trapping her under him, his face inches from hers, full of wonder as he
studied the creature beneath him. ‘There’s more?’

‘Well, I know I was supposed to be the one
doing the seducing, but Victoria had plans of her own.’ She was aware at how
strained she sounded, and Jenny had to keep stopping to catch her voice as John
sat up to fiddle with her tender nipples.

‘It happened so quickly; it was all a bit of
a blur. But as soon as we had both come after our sixty-nine, Victoria threw me
onto my back and pushed my legs up at the knee. The pillow my head was resting
on was ripped away and stuffed under my arse, to give her better access, and
she tongued me from my clit to my bum. She said it was an experience that she
wanted to
savor
.’

John’s eyes blazed as he listened, hanging
on her every word, as Jenny playfully added, ‘I bet she gives a wicked BJ.’

Not giving him time to respond, Jenny went
on, ‘I’m sure I wriggled a lot, but she had a hand on my pelvis, and I knew I
wasn’t supposed to move. Victoria flashed a short, wide, lubed-up black butt
plug in front of my eyes. God knows where she’d been hiding it. I wasn’t sure
if I wanted her to carry on or not, but I didn’t have time to think, because
she was already putting the plug inside my rim!’

John fell forward, his whole frame flat
against her, his chest hot and sticky as it squashed her taut tits. ‘Go on,
Jen, tell me more. Please tell me.’ Wrapping John’s cock in her grip as she
spoke, Jenny felt him grow in her palm, knowing it wouldn’t be long until he
was ready to screw her again.

 
‘She produced a feather, a fake, pink feather, and stroked it
across my skin. Over my tits, my stomach, my legs, teasing me on and on. I
begged her to stop, but I wanted her to keep going, really; and she knew it.

‘Just when I thought I might go insane,
Victoria did stop, chucked the feather away, and lowered my knees. Of course
that made the butt plug sink deeper, making me gasp even more. Then she put her
lips between my legs. You should have seen her; my juice was dripping all over
her face as I bucked against her neck and chin.’

Diving his shaft back between her legs,
John pumped frantically against Jenny’s pussy, taking open delight in the orgasm-gripped
expression on her face. ‘I knew you’d like Victoria.’ Peaking with her, John
groaned, ‘I want to fuck your arse with someone watching. Can I, one day?’

Surprised and yet pleased by John’s sudden
change of tack, she replied, ‘I should think so. If you’re a good boy.’ Jenny
rolled over and risked asking, ‘When you disappeared, you said you’d be gone
four weeks. I’m not complaining, but it’s only been three?’

Sitting up slightly, resting on his elbows,
John looked her straight in the eye. ‘I had every intention of being away for
four weeks. But quite frankly, you filthy creature, I couldn’t keep away any
longer.’

Grinning like a Cheshire cat, Jenny cuddled
some of her bed sheets around her shoulders while she watched him dress.

He gave her a
smoldering
look, but their
time was up, and suddenly he was back in courier mode. ‘Hell, Jen, I’ve missed
you, but…’

‘You have to go.’ Finishing his sentence
for him, she smiled, showing him that she understood. Privately, she had been
surprised at how long he’d stayed.

As he laced his trainers, Jenny wrapped
herself further into her duvet, biting back the words she was desperate to
shout after him as he dashed down the stairs.
Where have you been, John?

Tuesday

Christmas Eve: Concluding

As Jenny wrapped
the Christmas gifts, she mulled over her relationship with John. It hadn’t
taken long for the old pattern to return. John turned up every Tuesday, they
had fantastic, quickie sex, and then he disappeared back to work, just as he
always did, and Jenny would get on with her accounts. He hadn’t told her what
he’d been up to during those missing weeks, and she had given up asking. In
fact, the only real change was that Jenny had finally relaxed. She no longer
worried about whether John would turn up or not. Tuesday would come, and he
would appear.

Occasionally, John would send her a sexually
charged text, like, ‘I want to see you with a woman again’ or ‘How about a
foursome?’

Every time they were due to see each other,
Jenny decided that
this
would be the
day she would tell him that he was the first man who she hadn’t been able to
stop thinking about – in her whole life. She vowed to tell him that she
feared the lust factor had been joined by another, far more frightening,
L-word. But the second they caught sight of each other, something took over.
Passion, greed, desire – they all combined, and they’d fuck. Just fuck. ‘I
mean,’ Jenny addressed the sticky tape as she attempted to find the beginning
of the roll, ‘why chat to your DVD delivery man over coffee when he could be
tipping you upside down over the side of the armchair and giving your backside
a proper seeing to?’

Reigning in her increasingly lurid
imagination, Jenny looked down at the few remaining presents she had to wrap
for the following day. She tried to divert her attention from all the things she’d
rather
be doing on a Tuesday
afternoon by humming Christmas carols along to the radio.

The knock at her door made her jump, and
Jenny physically had to restrain herself from running to see who the caller
was.
So what if it’s one o’clock? It’s Christmas
Eve, he isn’t working, and he won’t come. It’ll be my next-door
neighbour
with some mince pies or something.
Jenny’s
pulse thudded violently in her chest as she moved to the door, convinced that
the hope she couldn’t prevent from rising in her chest was about to leave her
disappointed
.

The silhouette through the glass panel in
her front door was unmistakeable.

‘I was just passing.’ The shine in John’s
deep brown eyes told her this was a blatant lie.

A wide smile crossed her face as Jenny let
him in. ‘I thought you might be away for Christmas or something.’

‘I thought you might be too.’

A feeling of awkwardness came over Jenny.
Despite everything they had done together, there was nevertheless so much they
didn’t know about each other. She felt almost shy as she spoke. ‘I was going to
text, but I didn’t want to get in the way of your life or anything.’

‘Same here. I thought you might be with
family.’ A large, rough hand raked through the back of her hair, easing out the
knots, sending little currents of craving down Jenny’s neck and into her chest.
Then, slipping a hand into hers, John steered Jenny towards the living room,
swiftly banishing any uncertainty.

Gesturing to the middle of the floor, he
said, ‘Last minute wrapping?’

‘A few bits for the
neighbour’s
kids.’ She
could feel her pulse accelerating as he looked at her. ‘My family all live
abroad, it’s just me in the UK.’

‘That’s a big roll of paper for those
little gifts.’

She wasn’t sure if it was the way he spoke
or the look on his face that gave him away, but Jenny knew what was going to
happen before he moved. In seconds, John had stripped her naked, and Jenny was
being enveloped in large swathes of jolly, silver-star covered gift-wrap.

‘Don’t move, and don’t speak, okay?’

Nodding, she tried not to laugh as John
wrestled with the dispenser before he cut off length after length of sticky
tape, which he used to secure the paper tighter and tighter around her. Jenny’s
arms were pinned to her sides and her legs were clamped together, as if she was
some sort of bizarrely festive Egyptian mummy.

Stepping back to admire his work, John’s
face creased with hunger, and Jenny’s urge to giggle dissolved. She could feel
her breasts chafing against the smooth, figure-hugging covering, and suddenly
she realized how desperately she wanted them to be free so that John could hold
them, suck them, hit them… do whatever he wanted with them.

John began hunting around the room for
something. Jenny however, could only wonder how long it would be before she
could suck his shaft or feel him slide between her legs. She wanted to speak,
to ask him to kiss her, but she’d promised not to talk, and didn’t want to
distract him from whatever he was going to do next.

He stood so close to Jenny that his dark
eyes tunnelled into hers. He peeled his clothes off at a speed that made the
lightning disposal of Jenny’s garments seem positively drawn out.

Attempting to distract herself from the
need to speak, Jenny traced her eyes over the line of his chest, the hairs so
soft and inviting, his tattoos just begging for fresh examination; his cock,
hard and firm, pointed at Jenny accusingly, as if making its owner as horny as
hell was a crime.

Shuffling her feet unsteadily on the
carpet, she watched as he began to unwind the satin purple ribbon she’d spent
ages draping around her Christmas tree. Her throat turned the texture of
sandpaper as she comprehended the meaning behind the devious expression in
John’s eyes. He brought the two-meter garland towards her.

Naked and emanating power, John began to wind
the ribbon around her neck in a large bow. Picking up a pair of scissors from
the floor, he cut off the remaining strip of fabric. ‘I started thinking about
doing this last night. I even have some rolls of gift-wrap in the van. I
couldn’t believe my luck when I saw this lot waiting for me.’

Wide-eyed, Jenny saw her film courier twist
part of the ribbon around his arm before approaching her. Again, she guessed
what he was about to do, and she tensed as the first bind of the silky material
went over her eyes and around the back of her neck, trapping her hair.