Not Her Type: Erotic Adventures With a Delivery Man (10 page)

Lifting up the back of her skirt, Jenny
clicked her phone into camera mode and, thankful for the harsh strip-lighting
and the pale walls, which would ensure she had enough light for the photos to
come out, she stuck her butt out backwards and took a load of snaps.

Horny from the risqué act of what she was
doing for John, a seep of liquid dribbled down Jenny’s legs as she examined the
photos. Choosing the best shot, she fired it off to her lover.

Jenny drew out the bunny vibe from her bag,
totally forgetting about the prospect of being overheard as she pictured John
receiving the photo. She had lost count of the number of nights she’d wished
John could have watched her masturbate; well, now he was going to watch –
sort of. Suddenly, she decided she wasn’t going to do exactly as he’d asked.
There wouldn’t be any more photos.

She was going to video her solo session,
and send him
that
instead.

An unbearable heat was rising in her
breasts. Jenny dragged her t-shirt over her head and dumped it onto the floor,
before stripping her bra off and tossing that aside as well. With closed eyes,
she stretched her legs wide. Plucking at her hardening nipples, Jenny quickly
made her pussy desperate for attention.

She cursed the fact that she didn’t have
enough hands, and squatted down in the confined space, resting the base of her
vibrator on the floor. Thankful for all the yoga classes she’d taken, she
lowered herself onto the solid latex. Clamping her lips shut to stifle the moan
of satisfaction that was already building within her, Jenny balanced herself as
best she could, and clicked the phone onto video record. The dizzying bunny
feature posted nerve-jangling hits against her clit as Jenny began to propel
her legs up and down, moving her free hand to her chest.

The image of John was so strong within her
that Jenny was sure if she reached out, she would have been able to feel his
flesh ripple beneath her fingers. Licking two of her fingertips, she bought
them back to her breasts, intensifying the reactions deep within her as damp
flesh rubbed damp flesh. Coming with a yell that was muffled by the sound of
whirring hand dryers, Jenny sagged to the floor.

Several lungfuls of air later, flexing and
un-tensing her legs, Jenny sat her curvy arse against the ceramic toilet seat,
and eased the plastic rod from her vagina.

Deciding against watching the video
herself, and hoping that John would prefer her chosen medium rather than still
photos, she pressed the send button, longing to know what his reaction would be
to seeing her wank off just as he had instructed.

Tuesday

Cold Calling

With three weeks to
go before John’s promised return, Jenny sat speculating in a
neighbourhood
café over
what the second task might be. She was still shocked at herself for completing John’s
first assignment; but then, she had been constantly surprised by what she’d do
for this man from the minute he’d hugged her almost three months ago.

It was no time at all, really, and yet so
much had happened. The old Jenny, the girl who had fun, who walked with her
back straight and her chest out, had returned. Now all that time spent
repressing herself after she’d run out on Jo seemed such a waste; and yet, she
realized if she hadn’t taken that path then she’d never have met John, and that
was unthinkable.

‘I wish I knew where he was, or why he
went.’ Jenny spoke into her coffee cup, suddenly embarrassingly aware she was
speaking out loud. Heads from the table next to her turned, eyebrows raised at
the woman who was peering at her mobile as if it was a bomb about to go off.

It had become a habit so quickly: staring
out of the kitchen window at home on a Tuesday, waiting to see John’s van pull
up and his stocky frame swagger to her door. Jenny hadn’t been able to bear
pointlessly hanging round the house for his distinctive knock – a knock
she knew wasn’t going to come. So, she’d decided to take Tuesday afternoons off
to go walking or shopping, to do anything that involved being out of the house.
Anything to stop herself thinking about the scratch of John’s stubble against
her cheeks, the outline of the mysterious Japanese tattoos up his arms, and the
way he could sear her flesh by merely looking at her.

It had worked, sort of; but in the quiet of
her business day, John invaded her thoughts on an almost constant basis. She
wasn’t sleeping properly either. Her dreams were becoming more sexually outlandish
each night, and the number of batteries Jenny was going through via her dildo
was in danger of increasing global warming two-fold.

Sipping at her steaming hot coffee, Jenny
tried to read a newspaper, but even though she had turned her phone to silent
to try to stop herself from being so obsessed by its presence, her eyes kept
straying back to it. It was almost one o’clock.

On the stroke of one it vibrated, jumping
conspicuously against the table.

‘Hello, dirty girl.’

Jenny’s mouth dried as she listened, and
she tensed as she prepared to receive her next challenge. ‘Hello.’

 
‘Are you ready for the second task?’ Once again he sounded
funny, as if he was standing in an echoing corridor.

‘Yes.’ Jenny found she was breathless
already, and had to compose her face so as not to draw further attention to
herself.

 
‘How naughty are you feeling today?’

‘I’m talking to you, so what do you think!’
Just knowing he was on the other end of the phone was having an extraordinary
effect on her crotch, but Jenny was on the alert. There was something different
about the way he was talking to her. He sounded decidedly shifty.

‘Do you have a pen and paper?’

‘Of course.’ Now she was worried.

‘Then write this down.’

Realization hit her in a cold wave as she
copied down his directions, but she managed to keep her voice perfectly calm as
she stated, ‘This is another woman’s address, isn’t it.’

‘Yes. I have a confession.’

Jenny’s common sense rallied, screaming at
the back of her head.
Hang up the phone
now. He told you he couldn’t be trusted, and he obviously can’t!
But her
nipples were already hard, and besides, she wanted to know what he’d been
planning for her.

‘I had sex with her about eight months ago.’

A selfish relief flooded her.
That’s before we got together
. ‘When you
were still married?’

‘Exactly. I told you I was no angel, Jen.’

‘And you are telling me this because…?’

‘I promised her I’d surprise her one day.’

Sweat prickled over every inch of Jenny’s
body, but she managed to keep her tone level as her eyes scanned the address
she held in her hand. ‘Go on.’

‘I want you to seduce her, and then I want
to hear all about it.’

The scrap of paper fell to the table as,
speaking in a dead whisper, hiding her face behind her newspaper, Jenny hissed,
‘Let me get this straight. You want me to knock on the door of a woman I’ve
never met before …’ she broke off, unable to conceive of what she was about to
repeat, ‘…and say, “You don’t know me, but my friend John thinks you’d be up
for a bit of a girlie shag.”’

‘Yes.’

‘You are unbelievable!’

John’s laugh at her response was short-lived,
and an edgy seriousness crept into his call. ‘Since we had that girl together,
I can’t stop looking for someone else for you to screw. I consider asking every
woman I pass in the street if she’d be up for it! It’s like an obsession, and
it’s your fault.’ He paused, gathering himself together sharply, ‘Anyway,
Victoria will love you. I know she will.’

Jenny knew she’d been doing the same thing
– looking at other females more closely than she had in years. Saying
nothing, she waited for John to go on.

‘You will find her at home between three
and four p.m. I want you to go today; and then, whatever the outcome, I want
you to tell me all about it next Tuesday. I will be at your place at one.’

‘You will? That’s earlier than you said.’
Ashamed at her obvious eagerness, Jenny’s sticky palm cooled a little against
the newspaper still clasped between her fingers.

‘So, you’d better be a good little bad
girl, hadn’t you? Do as you are told, and don’t forget a thing. I want to have
a blow by blow account.’

‘You really think this Victoria will go for
it?’

‘Like her knickers are on fire, babe.’

‘She might not like me.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous, you’re gorgeous.’

Jenny, glowing under the unexpected
compliment, added, ‘Where are you, John?’

His sigh was louder than any of the words
he’d just spoken. ‘I will tell you when the time is right. I’ll be home soon.’

It was with a jolt that Jenny realized she
didn’t know where John’s home was. However, that didn’t matter right now. What
did matter was the address lying innocently on the table before her, and the
fluttering of excitement that had begun to stir in every recess of her being.

‘One of these days I’m going to buy a
notebook and write down all of the things you make me do. Not that anyone would
ever believe me!’

John laughed. ‘Yes, I can just see you as
the writer type; just as long as you don’t expect me to read it!’

What the hell do you wear for an occasion like this?
Jenny surveyed the contents of her wardrobe.
What did I used to wear when I went on a girlie night out?

Adopting an ‘in for a penny in for a pound’
policy, Jenny decided to go with her courier’s
favourite
outfit. The short denim skirt which
John loved so much was accompanied by sheer, lacy hold-ups. Running her eyes
over her legs in search of snags or ladders in the nylon, Jenny grinned to
herself, knowing that she wouldn’t have taken so much trouble for a bloke.
Women notice these things
. The delicate lilac
top she wore was suggestively cut, but not slutty, merely hinting at the chest
awaiting discovery underneath. Jenny’s hands hesitated as she wondered whether
to put on her thigh-length black boots, and then she shrugged.
I already look like a hooker, might as well
go the whole hog.

Even though she didn’t need to read it
again, for the address would forever be burnt on to her memory, Jenny unfolded
the now tatty piece of paper and glanced from it to the house she had just
parked in front of.

She thought she’d been edgy when she’d
arranged for Carrie to visit, but that was nothing next to the heated anxiety
that assailed Jenny’s body as she stared at the ordinary looking, semi-detached
property.
Remarkable what goes on behind
closed doors in suburbia!

Wishing more than anything that John was
with her, but at the same time, looking forward to seven days from now when she
would report to him, Jenny rose from the driver’s seat of her car and strode to
the house.

Keeping her car keys and phone in her hand
so she could make a quick getaway if Victoria did not give her the welcome John
had predicted, her outfit hidden by a navy trench coat, Jenny walked up the
short, frost-covered pathway. Then, not quite believing she was actually doing
it, she rang the doorbell on the oak-
panelled
front door.

The three seconds it took for the
silhouette of a female to appear on the other side of the glass door seemed to
take a lifetime, and it was in that moment that Jenny realized she had absolutely
no idea what Victoria looked like.
What
if that’s not her? That could be a friend of hers, or a relative!

She couldn’t back out now. The lock was
undone, and Jenny was confronted by a tall, slim redhead with incredibly
knowing, feline green eyes set in a porcelain face. She wore a form-fitting white
t-shirt and skinny jeans
. Oh, My God! She
looks so much like Jo. Did John know? But how could he?

‘Can I help you?’ The unexpected Irish
accent was quietly sensual, and for a split second Jenny experienced a stab of
jealousy that John had slept with this beauty. She couldn’t blame him, though;
the woman exuded a potent sexuality.

‘Hi, um, are you Victoria?’

As an opening line it was a bit lame, but
even in her sexiest clothes, Jenny felt small and dowdy next to the towering
creature that was observing her with a questioning expression.

‘Yes, I am.’ She waited, anticipating more
information.

Jenny decided to dive straight in. ‘John
sent me.’

Swinging the door open, Victoria took a
step back, a look of remembered pleasure on her face. ‘In that case, you better
come in.’

‘You do know who I mean, then?’ Jenny
smiled shyly.

‘Of course. He said he’d send someone, but
I must admit, I’d given up waiting. He’s certainly taken his time.’

‘I’m sorry?’

Victoria pushed open the nearest of three doors
and invited Jenny into the kitchen. ‘John said he’d send me someone to play
with, and I suspected it would be a woman.’ Resting back against her kitchen counter,
Victoria regarded Jenny from the other side of the small room. ‘What were you
told to do, exactly, once you got here?’