Not Her Type: Erotic Adventures With a Delivery Man (9 page)

120 Seconds

Jenny had been
ready for an hour. Dressed as per his request. Black jeans, black low-cut shirt,
black bra, black knickers.

A rare text from John late the night before
had warned her that even compared to normal, they wouldn’t have long.
But then, we never have long.

He was already speaking as he came into the
house, his tone hectoring. ‘No time to explain. I have a stupidly large new van
and company. A new assistant to train. He’s practicing parking. We’ve got two
minutes until he manages to get the truck into a space. Then he’ll be knocking
on the door.’

Jenny’s mouth opened to argue, to say that
two minutes was impossible, but she didn’t have the chance to say anything as she
was driven to her knees with the order, ‘Suck my cock.’

In the back of Jenny’s mind, the countdown
began.

120 seconds – John dragged down his
jeans and boxers.

115 seconds – The insistent beep of
the truck’s reversing signal reverberated in her ears as Jenny’s lips closed
around his dick. Inhaling his distinctive scent, she wasted a few precious
moments
savoring
her lover’s exquisite
flavor
, until the noise from outside stopped and, panic gripping her, she
worked even faster.

110 seconds – Frantically licking the
very tip of John’s shaft in time to the ticking clock in her head, Jenny
wrapped a palm firmly around his wood.

100 seconds – John’s fingernails
grated at her scalp. His muscles clenched.
 
From outside Jenny could hear the vehicle begin to move again
as the trainee continued his
maneuvers
.

95 seconds – The courier pulled
himself from Jenny’s lips and roughly rotated her, dragging both her jeans and
knickers to her ankles.

90 seconds – Her sticky juices spread
over her clit as she was bent over the bottom steps of the stairway, one strong
hand groping between her legs, the other controlling her hips.

85 seconds – The purr of the engine
stopped, and then started again. ‘What if…?’ she began to ask, but John slapped
her butt, interrupting her mumbled fear as he pushed her shirt up onto her
shoulders, enquiring fingers plunging inside her bra. Nervous currents fired
through Jenny as he polished her nipples.

80 seconds – John fell to his knees, and
with one eye on the door, stuffed his hastily sheathed dick into her.

75 seconds – A calloused palm came
back between her legs, gliding over and around her clit, making her shake.

65 seconds – The clock in Jenny’s head
ticked louder. ‘He’ll be here any second, what shall we do if…?’
 
A pinch at her labia morphed her words
into a lust-fuelled yelp as John pumped, ramming his groin against her arse.

60 seconds – The reversing siren sounded
briefly, and then died.

55 seconds – Jenny’s arms gave way.
Collapsing against the stairs, the treads dug into her chest.

45 seconds – John let out a low moan.

40 seconds – Frantic fingers danced
over Jenny’s pussy as John thrust harder still, his balls slapping her flesh.

35 seconds – An eerie peace filled
the hall as, successfully parked, the truck’s engine was switched off.

30 seconds – Anxious, Jenny swallowed
back a desire-riddled scream, the knowledge of their imminent discovery
overwhelming her.

28 seconds – The truck door slammed
shut.

25 seconds – Hot cream fired into her
shaking body as they both came in a series of satisfied groans.

20 seconds – Their underwear was back
in place.

15 seconds – Footsteps crunched up
the gravel path.

10 seconds – They were completely
dressed.

5 seconds – John gave Jenny such an
unsettling look that her blood froze, her heated body turning to ice.
He’s going to tell me something I don’t want
to hear
.

‘I’m going away for four weeks. Please
don’t ask why. Don’t call or text me. I’ll call when I can.’

Shocked, the high her body had been flying
on sank without a trace. Jenny’s mouth opened and closed, but she couldn’t find
the words to reply. There was no time left anyway. The set to John’s face said
it all; he wasn’t joking.
He really is
going away.

2 seconds – a shadow loomed outside
the front door.

0 seconds – the doorbell rang.

‘Sorry I took so long, boss. That van’s a
git to park.’

John replied as calmly as if he’d just
spent the last two minutes discussing Jenny’s latest film choice, not shagging
her to exhaustion against her stairs. ‘No problem, mate, no problem at all. Let
me introduce you to Jen, one of our regulars. You’d be amazed how often I
deliver stuff to this address.’

The hands of her
bedside clock edged towards midnight.

I
can’t believe that young guy will be delivering here instead of John. Why
didn’t he tell me before? Why did he ask me not to use his phone? Where is he
going? What’s going on?

Jenny punched her pillow with her fist in a
pointless attempt to get comfortable enough to sleep.

How
did we do it that quickly? How could I have allowed him to treat me like that?
What if we’d been caught? What the hell has that bloody man done to me? And
what the hell am I going to do without him?

Jenny couldn’t shake the feeling that someone
had stolen her smile with no intention of giving it back. She hadn’t cried.
What was the point in crying, when there was no one to make it better? She did,
however, feel angry. Really angry with John. Mostly angry with herself. This
was exactly why she didn’t have relationships. And this wasn’t even really a
relationship. This was just fabulous sex with a fringe of conversation, and yet
still
her emotions had gotten
clobbered. They had never been out for a drink, never been to the cinema
together; they’d never even made it as far as her bedroom. Beyond a deserted
car park, their adventures hadn’t gone further than her hall, lounge, and
stairs.

Now that Jenny thought about it, John
hadn’t even looked sorry, just vaguely guilty. He’d screwed her, introduced the
bloke that would be replacing him, told her that he was going ‘somewhere,’ and
that had been it. Then he and his trainee had walked back to the van, chatting
happily. He hadn’t even looked back.

Well,
that tells me all I need to know about what I mean to him.

The following
morning, Jenny toyed her mobile phone anxiously between her fingers. Her legs
felt weak, and despite her midnight resolution not to waste any more time
worrying about someone whom she hadn’t even been dating, Jenny remained
confused by his contradictory
behavior
. They had, by mutual consent, only been using each other for sex,
and Jenny was sure that she wasn’t supposed to mind his temporary defection
this much.

Staring blankly at her computer screen,
failing to drink the mug of black coffee she’d made, Jenny jumped when the
phone she was still fiddling with rang. It was him. ‘Hello?’

‘I’ll be back in a month, Jen.’

‘And you think I’ll be here, just waiting
for your knock on the door?’ Even as the acid of her tone burned her throat,
Jenny knew she would be there, just as he did, and she cursed herself for
failing to keep her words light.

‘You’ll be there. You’ll be there because
you’re going to want to tell me about the outcome of the two tasks I’m going to
give you in my absence. Tasks you will complete; and then, when I see you, will
describe to me in detail.’

‘John, where…?’

‘I’ll tell you one day. When I’m ready. I
did tell you I couldn’t do the whole relationship thing. That I was only about
sex. You said that was okay, that you could handle that.’

‘I can, but…’

‘I will come back Jenny, and you will do
the tasks. Yes?’

‘Yes.’

She could hear the smile in his voice,
‘There’s a good dirty girl. I’ll be in touch.’

He hung up, and Jenny’s home felt more
silent than it ever had, as a contradictory prickle of excitement, annoyance,
and apprehension hit Jenny’s veins.
I
must be mad… What tasks…?

Tuesday

Solo

There had been
nothing. A week had gone by. No word had come from John, and no tasks had
arrived for her to do. It was almost one o’clock, and through habit alone,
Jenny’s body craved the crush of John’s torso against her own. Although she was
sitting at her desk, she knew that there was very little point in working while
she was so completely unfocused, so she tackled her Christmas shopping list
instead, but with little success.
Do I
buy him a gift or not?

When, at exactly one, her mobile went off,
Jenny was beyond relieved. The strain of waiting for him to contact her was
becoming too difficult to handle. Jenny hardly dared breathe as she picked up
the call.

John sounded distant, as if he was speaking
without wanting to be overheard. ‘There will be two tasks; this is the first.
Don’t ask questions, just listen. I don’t have long. Go and put on the
miniskirt you wore that time you tied me up. Damn, I get stiff when I think about
that… and take off your knickers. You will be going commando. Then fetch your
vibrator. Put it in your handbag and
walk
to town. At two o’clock you will go into the Ladies’ cloakroom in Debenhams and
wank yourself off. Take some photos with your phone as proof, and then text
them to me.’

‘John, I can’t! People will hear the buzz.
They’ll know!’ Jenny’s protests faulted on her lips as she realized that the
sound of her lover had been replaced by the dead tone. He had already gone.

Trying to quell the apprehension that was
rising within her, Jenny glanced at her watch. It was two minutes past one.
Town was a forty-five minute walk away. She didn’t move, her hand cradling the
mobile.
You’re not really going to do
this… are you?

Even as Jenny asked herself the question,
she could feel a flutter of sexual tension knot in her chest. It was time to
stop thinking too much, and time to start doing.
John wants me to be his dirty girl, so as long as it’s turning me on as
well, why not do what he wants?

Not allowing herself any time to change her
mind, Jenny ran upstairs, grabbed her vibe, stuffed it into her handbag, and
stripped off her jeans and knickers.

Feeling strangely free as the air caressed
her pussy, Jenny began task number one. Striding into the crisp, early winter
air, Jenny could visualize John in her head. His hair spiked up, his arms bare
from the elbow, showing off the Japanese tattoos he had acquired on that
drunken evening over a decade ago. She wondered if he was still holding his
phone, waiting for her to show him her wet pussy, full of vibrator. She
wouldn’t have been surprised if he was already giving himself a good time at
the thought of what she was going to do for him; of the power he exerted over
her. She was sure he knew she’d do it. Somehow, without really noticing, she
had become his toy.

It hadn’t occurred to Jenny as she’d
received her instructions that it was early November, and not only was she
liable to freeze her bare legs and backside, she was bound to draw attention to
herself by wearing such an unseasonal outfit. Jenny was very thankful that at
least her knee high boots were protecting the lower half of her legs, and her
denim jacket was comforting her arms.

Self-conscious, Jenny tugged pointlessly at
her miniskirt. She shivered, not so much from the cold, but with a dark craving
for John as she visualized the look on his face when she would eventually describe
how she felt right at this moment.

By the time Jenny saw the department store
ahead of her, it was already almost two o’clock, and she increased her pace.
Perspiring both from the speed at which she’d walked and by the prospect of
what she was about to do, Jenny stepped into the shop’s lift and ascended to
the top floor, praying that the cloakrooms would be empty.

John’s gruff London accent played in her
head:
All these people walking past you
doing their Christmas shopping, and not one of them knows you’re going
commando. One blast of wind and the whole town will be able to see that pussy.

Marching across the shop floor, picking her
way around the tinsel and Christmas tree displays, terrified she might bump
into someone she knew, Jenny headed straight for the Ladies’ room.

Her heart sank. Four of the eight toilets
were in use, and two women were at the sinks. Jenny went into the very end
cubicle and bolted the door behind her, grateful that the stalls had floor to
ceiling doors and walls, with no gaps at the bottom. At least she’d have a
little more privacy than she’d previously imagined.

Leaning back against the stark white door, Jenny
let her bag fall to the floor and took her phone from her pocket, her hands
shaking. She imagined what John would be saying if he was there.
Let me see that arse, Jen, let me make sure
you haven’t cheated and worn knickers.