Not Her Type: Erotic Adventures With a Delivery Man (8 page)

BOOK: Not Her Type: Erotic Adventures With a Delivery Man
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The last vestiges of her apprehension
disappeared and Jenny undid her own shirt, exposing her tits to the erotically
charged atmosphere. Stepping closer, Carrie stood so that her nipples nuzzled
Jenny’s. Jenny nearly wept as the exquisite sensation of female flesh on female
flesh coursed from her head to her toes.

Carrie stroked Jenny’s cheek with her
finger, making the hairs stand up on the back of Jenny’s neck. Returning the
gesture, Jenny took joy in the evenness of the other woman’s defined cheekbones
and freckle-spotted neck and shoulders. She suddenly longed for a pen so she
could link them all together, like some massive dot to dot; but that wasn’t
part of today’s plan, so Jenny tried to distract herself from her new desire by
turning her attention to John.

He was slouched back in the armchair, his
legs wide. His black trousers were tenting over a straight cock. A shag-happy
expression adorned his face, and his hands were unashamedly stroking his bulge.
He winked suggestively at his lover, sending an additional thrill of
aphrodisiacal power through her.

While Jenny’s eyes were on John, Carrie
began to increase her pace, and placed the flat of her palms over her new
acquaintance’s breasts. Jenny’s tips pushed closer to the gently rotating
foreign touch, and a gasp of longing whistled through her moist lips. Lifting
her arms to reciprocate, Jenny was taken by surprise as they were knocked away.
On a signal from Carrie, John leaped from his chair and, clasping Jenny’s
wrists behind her back, gave a smiling Carrie unrestrained access to Jenny’s torso.

Jenny’s feet began to fidget restlessly as
the other woman and her courier, together, ignited her first orgasm – an
eruption of ecstasy that swept through her tits and down her legs all at once,
littering her arms in goose-bumps. Jenny’s heartfelt groan was answered with
one from John as she surrendered herself to the four hands that held her in
place.

Carrie inhaled a nipple between her lips,
circling her tongue over and around the ever-hardening tip John tightened the
pressure on his girl’s arms as Carrie lapped at her chest with increasing
ferocity.

Riding on the back of her original release,
another wave took hold of Jenny, juddering her between her companions. Her
wrists were swiftly released as she continued to tremble, and the sound of an
unbuckling belt brought Jenny swiftly back to earth.

The women looked at the courier and were
rewarded with the sight of John gripping his beautiful dick firmly at its base.
He stared at them both, his flashing eyes challenging them to carry on.

Only too happy to oblige, Jenny leaned
towards Carrie, rubbed her body against the redhead’s, kissing her
passionately. Then, frustrated by the presence of their jeans, Jenny undid Carrie’s
zipper. Carrie tugged at Jenny’s in return until they stood together in their
knickers. With a burst of
fervor
, Carrie scoured her polished nails over Jenny as she nipped and bit
her skin. In return, Jenny teased the outline of Carrie’s satin panties,
caressing her thumb along the hidden flesh. A dark dampness leaked from the
stranger’s needy pussy, spreading across the shiny fabric.

Breaking away from Carrie’s clinch and
falling to her knees, Jenny tore the saturated panties to the floor. Inhaling
the perfumed cocktail of female sex, Jenny danced light fingers between the stranger’s
spreading legs.

Sensing what was going to happen next, John
collapsed back into his chair, letting out an almost reverential grunt: ‘Oh,
bloody hell, girls.’ Jenny could hear the sounds of the driver kicking off his
trousers from his ankles and dragging his t-shirt over his head.

 
As Jenny brought her tongue to Carrie’s pussy, Carrie thrust
her mound closer, her body showing the courier the unmistakable signs of imminent
meltdown. Encouraged by John’s gentle murmurs of approval, Jenny pushed an
index finger up inside Carrie, gradually gliding it in and out in time to the
licks at her clit.

‘Bloody hell!’ John cried out again, as Carrie
rocked against Jenny’s mouth and hand.

Tearing her eyes away from the gorgeous
woman who stood pliant before her, Jenny called to John, who instantly arrived
at her side, his nakedness emanating an exotic heat. ‘Is this all right, honey?
Are you having a good time?’

‘What?! Are you kidding me?! You’re just
so…’

Carrie encouraged Jenny to lie down onto
the floor. Then she climbed astride Jenny’s legs and pinned her before bending
forward to feed on her chest. Carrie alternately nibbled and kissed Jenny’s
breasts, circling but not touching her nipples in an act of exquisite
provocation. A tightness spread through Jenny’s abdomen, and it was only the
pressure of Carrie’s thighs that kept her hips still. Then, just as Jenny had
done to her guest only moments before, Carrie slipped a finger and thumb
between her legs, squeezing her nub intensely, causing Jenny to jerk
uncontrollably. Jenny looked directly into John’s blazing eyes as she came again.

It was too much for John. Twisted with
desire, he finally gave up the struggle not to come. Retrieving a condom, he
rolled it on with record speed. Jenny glanced at Carrie, who winked in mute
agreement, and lay down on her back.

Glancing at Jenny for reassurance that it
was okay for him to screw another woman in her presence, John lowered himself
between Carrie’s legs. As he pumped into Carrie’s pussy, Jenny straddled
Carrie’s face, giving her guest an intimate view of her pussy, which Carrie
began to lick out with military precision. Staring into John’s wide blissed-out
eyes, Jenny steadied herself by clutching handfuls of his chest hair. While
John attacked her mouth with a kiss, Carrie’s nimble tongue began to make
Jenny’s stomach knot, and a glorious three-way explosion ripped through them. A
collective cry of ecstasy ricocheted and resounded around the room, leaving
them all fantastically, totally, spent.

Carrie dressed and left in a flurry of hugs
and thanks. When the door closed, Jenny turned to John, and smiled shyly.
‘Well?’

Apparently, words weren’t sufficient to
describe his appreciation of the situation. Moving fast, John lifted Jenny into
the air, and threw her upside down over the back of the armchair. Burying her
head into the seat as if she was doing a headstand, he held her legs at his
sides, perpendicular to the floor, and Jenny found herself on the receiving end
of another breathtakingly urgent fuck.

Wednesday

Silence

 
 

Jenny tried to hide
the glee on her face as, from the kitchen window, she saw John’s van park
outside her house. Her delight at this unexpected visit only twenty-four hours
after their encounter with Carrie, the memory of which had had kept Jenny
wanking herself on and off all night, was replaced with anxiety when she saw
the furrowed brow on her courier’s face.

She dropped the dish she was washing into
the sink of soapy water. Jenny hastily dried her hands, getting to the door
before John’s heavy-handed knock hit the glass pane.

Holding up a hand, he barked, ‘You are not
going to speak.’ Shutting the front door behind him, he grasped Jenny’s waist.

Almost imperceptibly nodding h
h h
er head, Jenny bit her lower
lip, her pulse hitting an all-time high as their skin made contact.

‘I’ve had no sleep. I’m horny as hell, and
it’s all your fault!’ He hissed the words, echoing Jenny’s own disturbed and
frustrated night. ‘And now I’m going to use you. You are going to be just a
thing for me to come upon. Then, when I’m done, I’m leaving; going back to
work. You and your stunning body and your depraved imagination have brought me
miles off my route. I’m late for my next delivery already, so don’t you say a
word to hold me up further. Not a bloody word!’

Her heart rate doubled as he pivoted her on
the spot and pressed her face-first against the teak wood and glass of the
front door. Clamping her mouth tightly, Jenny had to force herself not to ask,
What if someone sees us through the window
in the door?

As John’s stubble scraped the back of her
neck, Jenny raised her arms up flat against the door, battling not to touch
him; trying hard to be the ‘thing’ that he wanted her to be, that he
needed
her to be.

At once aroused and irritated by her
compliance to the rules he’d insisted upon, John whisked Jenny around, staring
straight into her eyes as he lifted up her vest and liberated her breasts from
the old
greying
sports bra she’d assumed it was safe to wear that day.
After all, John never comes on a Wednesday,
so why bother?

He kissed Jenny, pulling her top lip gently
between his teeth, but she didn’t kiss back. There was something oddly freeing
about being treated like this. His attention stepped up a notch, and he twisted
her to face the door again so that her chest, and the hands that were skilfully
compressing and tweaking at them, could be seen by anyone who happened to be
passing.

Thanking a god she didn’t believe in that
she lived in a cul-de-sac (and therefore few people passed by her home), Jenny
lowered her head, resting it against the blessedly cold glass for a moment,
only to have it wrenched up sharply with a jolting pull of her hair. ‘You will
stare out of the window. I want anyone that goes by to see how amazing my dirty
girl looks when I’m screwing her.’

Keeping her head held high, trying to fix
an ordinary countenance on her face, Jenny’s pussy rippled in response to the
increasingly
skillful
manipulation of her tits by John’s calloused fingers. Grinding her
teeth together, Jenny couldn’t help but groan as she felt the fall of his
denims against the back of her thighs.

His probing hand reached around and gripped
her mound as his mouth bit into her neck. Closing her eyes, Jenny stuffed a
hand between her lips, half to prevent herself from yelling and half to stop
herself from reaching out behind her to grab the stiff cock poking her buttocks
as the first quivers of orgasm gathered in her toes. The heavy scent of John
infused her nostrils and her orgasm made a beeline for her pussy.

John’s dick began to prod at her wet
entrance, and suddenly, without a word, he was inside, forcing her to rise up
on her tiptoes to accommodate his length. He pounded into her and she supported
herself by pushing her hands against the door frame. He screwed her
mercilessly, as if she really were just a thing, just some tacky blow-up doll
that he’d decided to work himself off on.

Manipulating Jenny’s chest, making her feel
as if she’d been hotwired between her tits and groin, John murmured, ‘I still
can’t believe you got Carrie to come here.’ He drove his hips manically against
her. ‘I think I’ll see you between her legs for the rest of my life.’

The view of her
neighbours
’ front
gardens disappeared behind the blurred vision of Jenny’s own recollection. As
he spoke, all Jenny could see was the scene he was describing: Carrie’s pussy
between her lips.

‘You loved it, didn’t you, you cute bitch.
You bloody loved it.’

Blinking back the words of agreement she
wanted to shout into the doorframe, Jenny merely sighed. The taste of Carrie
– the smell of her as she’d licked her all over – had been
incredible. Jenny had adored every super-charged touch. But not as much as
she’d adored the expression on her courier’s face while she’d been working her
guest off. That would be the part she’d never forget.

‘I’ve never met a woman who I could shag
while talking about other women before. But, you aren’t just any woman are you?
There’s something about you…’

Jenny’s teeth dug into her bottom lip, the
faint taste of blood tingling on her tongue, her ears straining to take in
every word John said as he tilted her body nearer to climax.

‘…you are unbelievable.’

Reeling as his words mingled with the heat
that swept through her, Jenny crammed her hand back into her mouth and fought
not to collapse against the front door.

Abruptly, John pulled out of Jenny’s glossy
channel and, without a word of warning, sprayed his cum over her arse in a
blast of sticky satisfaction.

Breathing deeply, relieved that none of her
neighbours
had chosen those few moments to go for a walk, and yet well aware how much the
possibility of discovery had increased the tempo of her release, Jenny found
herself being gently turned.

Passing her a few tissues, which she took
with a wry smile, Jenny saw her courier’s face was pink with exertion. Doing up
his trousers and refastening his belt, he said nothing.

She longed to tell him how good that had
felt, how high it had rated amongst all their quickies, all the quickies she’d
ever had, how fantastic it was to see him on a Wednesday, and how much she
wanted to talk to him about the day before. But Jenny knew she shouldn’t say
anything. He was well behind schedule, and speaking now would destroy the
magic. So she remained in character as she mutely watched him open the door,
sprint to his van, and reverse out down the street as though he were late for
his own wedding.

Tuesday

BOOK: Not Her Type: Erotic Adventures With a Delivery Man
8.95Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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