Not Her Type: Erotic Adventures With a Delivery Man (13 page)

BOOK: Not Her Type: Erotic Adventures With a Delivery Man
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Mewling into the purple darkness and
deprived of the sight of his gorgeous body, Jenny felt John’s fingers fiddling
with the knot behind her head.

Then his hands came to her elbows. ‘You
look incredible. Are you okay?’

She nodded awkwardly; glad he was holding
her, afraid she would topple over at any moment.

‘Good girl. You remembered not to talk,’
John’s breath tickled her neck as he said, ‘You are, without doubt, the most
tempting Christmas present I’ve ever seen.’

As he spoke, her breasts, already swollen
with their need to be touched, became taut and hot, and pussy juice began to
leak along her inner thighs.

The pressure of his palm as he pushed it
against her wrapped-up mound made Jenny stagger so much that John had to steady
her with this free arm. Moaning as his fingers encased and probed her enclosed
clit, Jenny’s liquid flowed more freely, soaking the paper, turning the
crackling sound it had initially made into a wet, squelchy rustle.

‘What a hot little bad girl you are.’

Jenny felt the layers of wrapping paper
between her legs start to mulch as John kneaded and pinched her flesh. Then,
with a grunt of frustration, he lifted her off her feet and laid her on the
floor. An urgent hand came to her right breast, kneading her tit, creasing and
crumpling the gift-wrap.

Abruptly John stopped, his weight lifted
from her, and a sense of bereavement consumed her body. She had no idea how she
managed not to plead for more.

The purple ribbon over her eyes became
darker, and Jenny realized he must have turned the lights off. Then the chirpy
Christmas tunes that had been playing in the background disappeared as the
radio was clicked off. Silence filled the room. Uncertainty crept through
Jenny’s mind, and a drizzle of perspiration trickled between the packaging and
the back of her neck. Her ears strained to pick up a sound, but she couldn’t
hear anything, not even her man’s breathing.

Time seemed to pass slowly as Jenny lay
like a fallen statue, painfully aware of the friction of the saturated paper as
it clung to her pussy. Every part of her body ached for a continuation of the
attention it had been receiving. The ribbon against her eyes felt tighter than
ever, but Jenny began to wish it was between her teeth, gagging as well as
blinding her, for there was no way she could stay quiet for much longer.
Clamping her jaw, Jenny was determined not to break the rules, but the more she
thought, the more her resolve began to crack.

‘John?’

His gruff hands were on her before she’d
finished speaking his name. ‘You spoke. Thank goodness you spoke.’

‘I…’

John didn’t sound angry, just very
relieved. ‘You’re such a dirty girl! Feel how wet you’ve got this paper!’ His
fingers began to run all over the gift-wrap, pressing it against the contours
of her body. ‘I was beginning to think you’d never say anything, and I’ve been
longing to punish you.’

Punish
me?
Jenny’s heart rate increased further as her
brain raced through all the things he might want to do to her.

As the courier’s arms came around her
waist, Jenny found herself lifted into the air and bodily turned over. With her
tits squashed against the floor, she heard a ripping sound, and a rush of air
played over her backside as the wrapping was torn from her arse.

‘Just stunning.’ John grasped each of her
bare butt cheeks, burnishing them furiously with his calloused hands.

The sudden smack against her left cheek
made Jenny screech into the carpet.

‘That’s for
speaking out of turn.’

He slapped her right cheek next, sending a
burning ripple of fire across her backside. ‘And that’s for making me wait for
so long before you broke the rules. You have no idea what you do to me, woman’
– he slapped her again – ‘let alone what you do to my dick…’
– and again – ‘My imagination has never worked so much in all my
life…’ – smack – ‘You and Carrie…’ – smack – ‘You and
Victoria…’ – smack
 

‘You pleasuring yourself in a changing room just because I told you to…’ –
smack
 
– ‘I can’t bloody stop
wanking over you…’ – spank – ‘Dirty girl!’

Pride swelled within Jenny as the bizarre
gratification of the beating spread through her legs, making her pussy twitch
and her crushed chest pulse like never before. John continued to tell her in no
uncertain terms exactly what effect she had on him.

He spoke to her like no one else had ever
spoken to her before, brutally, passionately, and yet with a kind of reverent
disbelief, while continuing to rain body strikes against her butt.

This
is the best Christmas Eve ever.

Air rushed around her as John unwrapped her
in a flurry of clawing urgency and the remaining paper was torn away. Then,
with the blindfold remaining in place, John lifted her as if Jenny were
weightless, and pulled her down so she sat astride his lap, his sheathed dick
entering her with blessed ease.

Yanking the last vestiges of the gift-wrap
from her, John’s mouth attached itself to her right nipple, making Jenny sob
with relief. Her ribboned head fell to his shoulder, and her nails dragged down
his back as they rocked each other to an apex of lust.

Finally freeing her eyes, John stared into
them, his desire as intense as when he’d walked into the room half an hour
before, his tone husky and a little uncertain. ‘It’s time I told you why I went
away.’

‘Really? I’d given up on that.’

‘Exactly. You asked me, but you didn’t nag
or anything.’

‘Of course I didn’t.’ Jenny pushed a stray
hair from her eyes. ‘We aren’t having a relationship, we’re just, well, we’re
just doing whatever it is we’re doing once a week.’

‘That’s just it, you see.’

‘I’m sorry?’

‘I had to think. I was so sure I’d never
have a relationship again, and then I found you, and your amazing body, and,
well the rest of you, really. I needed to see if I’d miss you, if you’d miss
me, or if it was just fab sex that would be put to the back of my mind once I
returned to my rounds. You’re so not my usual type. I wanted to see if I missed
talking to you as well. And I did.’

Not missing the irony of what he’d just
said, and trying to calm the flutter of hope that returned to her mind, Jenny
frowned, thoughtfully. ‘So, where did you go?’

‘Home.’

‘What?’ Jenny rose onto her knees. ‘You
sounded like you were in a place with corridors. Where do you live, a hospital
waiting room?!’

‘I called you from work. I got myself based
at the depot for a while.’

‘I…’ Jenny didn’t know where to go with her
sentence. She had no idea if he was finishing with her, telling her he really
liked her, or what. ‘And the tests?’

‘I wanted to see if you were as badly
behaved as me.’ Jenny opened her mouth again, torn between protesting and
asking another hundred questions, when John, his cheeks slightly pink, blurted
out, ‘I got you a present.’

‘Really?’ Now Jenny was truly stunned.

Retrieving his coat, he pulled a
rectangular package from the inside pocket and held it out to her.

After she had gingerly taken it, Jenny went
to the drawer of her desk and took out a small white envelope. ‘This is what I
got for you. Sorry the envelope isn’t festive. I’m a bit nervous about it, to
be honest; you don’t have to take it.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You’ll see tomorrow when you open it.’

John escorted her to the sofa and stretched
one arm around her shoulders, ‘If you think I’m waiting until tomorrow to open
it now that you’ve said that, you have another think coming.’

Secretly relieved that she wouldn’t have to
wait for his reaction to his present to come via telephone, Jenny agreed. ‘But
only if I get to undo my gift as well.’

‘Deal!’ Kissing her quickly on the lips,
John said, ‘You first.’

With intense curiosity Jenny undid the
shiny gold paper. She couldn’t believe it. ‘You remembered!’

She ran her hand lovingly over the brown
suede cover of her new notebook. The heavy, quality cream paper within just
begged to be filled with words – with a no-holds-barred story. ‘Thank
you. It’s just perfect.’

‘Will you write about us?’

‘Oh, yes, honey. As long as the story has a
happy ending.’

He brushed a finger against her cheek.
‘Soppy sod.’

‘Your turn.’ Jenny wasn’t sure she could
bring herself to watch as his clumsy fingers slit the envelope open and he drew
out the two strips of paper contained within.

‘Um, Jen, you seem to have given me things
written down.’

‘Don’t panic, you won’t have to read much!
Honestly, what are you like?!’ Taking the notes from him, Jenny held one up at
a time. The first showed a date and a phone number. ‘That is in three weeks’
time. It’s a Tuesday. And that is the phone number of the woman who I’ve
arranged to come here to watch you give me a spot of anal. I get the impression
she is also keen to do other interesting things to me at the same time. That is
what you asked for, isn’t it?’

Shaking his head in disbelief, John just
looked at her. ‘You really are something else, woman.’

‘Is it okay? I mean, if you don’t fancy it,
I can call and cancel, I’m sure she won’t…’

He interrupted her attack of uncertainty,
‘Of course I want to, you twit! I’m just amazed you’ve done that for me! So
tell me about this second piece of paper before the thought of meeting this
other woman makes me ravish you again.’

‘Read what it says.’

John held up the note. ‘Stop running.’

Jenny stroked a fingernail softly down his
right arm. ‘Stop running.’

Realization dawned as his eyes plotted the
progress of her unpainted nails. ‘That’s what it means? That’s what my tattoo
says?’

‘Exactly that.’

‘And you’re not pulling my leg?’

‘I swear.’

‘But how did you find out?’

‘I Googled the
design. It wasn’t tricky, honey, look.’ Jenny turned the piece of paper over
for John to see what else she’d written, and read out the results of her
research: ‘S
top running:
nigeru na
.’ The bold
characters ran down the length of her paper:

 

 

‘Maybe there’s something to be said for
sleeping with clever women!’ Squeezing her hard, John shook his head again.
‘Did I mention you were unbelievable?’

Jenny laughed. ‘You may have mentioned it.’

Quiet for a moment, John asked, ‘Do you
like turkey and Christmas pudding?’

The sheer ordinariness of the question took
her by surprise. ‘Um, yes, I do.’

‘I know it won’t be on a Tuesday, but do
you fancy sharing some with me tomorrow?’

Darting forward, Jenny held John close,
that one enquiry answering all her uncertainties. Then clambering off his lap,
she rescued the abandoned ribbon from the floor. Running it suggestively
through her fingers, she ordered him to stand. ‘I would love to, but just in case
you decide you have to run off and deliver something, I think I’d better make
sure you can’t escape.’

Dragging John upstairs to her bedroom,
Jenny tied his un-protesting wrists to the bed post.

Who
needs a stocking hanging at the end of the bed when you can have a hot delivery
man…?

About the Author

 

BOOK: Not Her Type: Erotic Adventures With a Delivery Man
3.38Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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