Not Her Type: Erotic Adventures With a Delivery Man (6 page)

Sitting down next to her, John took Jenny’s
hand as he listened. ‘I fought it and had boyfriends. They were all lovely. As
I said, I do find men attractive, but it just wasn’t the same somehow. Anyway, at
the risk of sounding contradictory, eventually I fell for this guy. I was so
relieved, and we were happy, but he kept making all these plans for our future
and, although that was great and everything, I couldn’t stop thinking about all
the sex I wasn’t having with other people.’

‘With women?’

‘Yes.’ Jenny could feel the heat of her
courier’s hand begin to coarse through her skin as she went on, ‘I broke his
heart, and I never wanted to feel that awful, or hurt anyone that badly, ever
again. It isn’t easy telling someone you love them but whatever they do it will
never be enough. I needed to know for sure if I really was into girls, or if I
was just imagining things.’

Although he said nothing, John’s earnest
expression told Jenny he was still listening. ‘I played around a bit. I went a
little mad, to be honest: joined a lesbian and bi-sexual dating thing, which
was very hush-hush and underground back then.’

Flexing his legs into a more comfortable position,
John couldn’t hold his tongue any longer. ‘Honey, I am paying attention, and I
get what you’re saying, really I do. But I should warn you that I’m getting
well turned on again here. Do you really want to tell me this now? I mean, I am
liable to jump right back on you. Call me shallow, but the thought of you and
another female sort of derails my concentration.’

Fixing his eyes with her own, speaking slowly,
Jenny realized she was enjoying the reaction her confession was having on him.
‘I had a ball. I licked pussy for the first time, sucked breasts, and developed
a lifelong dislike for the taste of lipstick. It couldn’t last, though. It was all
so superficial. One partner after another, all within the same small goldfish
bowl of women. It was practically incest, for heaven’s sake. Then I met Jo.’

‘Tell me.’

John’s tone was animalistic, and Jenny scooted
closer to him, her hand running a palm up and down the inside of his leg. ‘Jo
was something special; she was also very much out there. Very proud of being
gay – not to mention she was incredibly hot, clever, funny, and kind. The
trouble was, although I fell for her hook, line, and sinker, I just couldn’t “come
out.” I liked boys as well, and I blamed my indecision on my parents. I didn’t
want to upset them, but in truth, it wasn’t that. I wanted the best of both
worlds, I suppose. I was also a coward.’

‘You were very young for all those
decisions.’

‘I’m not even sure which of us finished it
in the end. There was a hell of an argument. Jo hated that I seemed ashamed of
her. She accused me of selling out. She may well have been right. Anyway, I
couldn’t take the constant pressure of having a secret relationship. I guess it
simply crumbled, but I was left with the same feeling of hurting someone I
loved all over again, and being hurt back just as bad. It was the final straw,
and I couldn’t see how the pattern would ever break. I didn’t know who or what
I wanted, and I decided that it was safer all round if I kept my head down, got
my degree, and got the hell out of the city. I found a job and I hid.

‘And now?’ John cuddled Jenny up onto his
lap.

‘Right now? At this very moment, I want to
shag you. Just you.’ Groping at their lower garments, Jenny moved fast. Taking
a condom from her discarded skirt pocket, she eagerly straddled his
outstretched legs with her knees, and rolled the protection into place. No
further lubrication was required as her channel was still slick, gushing from
their earlier fuck, and engulfed him easily. The bruises she’d anticipated
began to throb as she pumped up and down, crashing against his legs with more haste
than finesse. The urgency to feel John quiver within her, to release his seed, took
over everything else. The gloom of the van no longer seemed oppressive, but
tempting and sexy, as she brought her lover off in record time.

Remaining on his lap, his cock buried
within her, aware that her opportunity to learn more about John was fading
away, Jenny coaxed, ‘So, I’ve bared my soul. Now, tell me about you.’

He shrugged, gently easing her off of him
so he could dress. ‘Not much to tell, and more to the point, not much of my
lunch hour left to tell it in.’

‘Do your best.’ Jenny slowly collected up
her own clothes, keen not to let the opportunity to learn more about her
elusive lover pass.

‘Okay, in a nutshell, my name is John David
Cooper, I am 36 years old, and I’m from London. I’m not clever, like you.’ John
looked away from her, absentmindedly trailing a finger along the nearest shelf.
‘Like I said, I’m almost divorced, but have no children.’ Now it was his turn
to sigh. ‘I’m no angel, Jen.’

After a moment’s
disquiet, her driver’s eyes lit up demonically as he said, ‘I will never have a
problem with you liking women sweetheart, but…’ His expression hardened as he
added, ‘I have to warn you, Jen, I am not cut out for relationships –
just sex. If that’s a problem, you must say so. I don’t want to mess you about.
You are not someone I want to hurt.’ He squeezed her hand, the heat of his skin
reminding her of why she was there with him. ‘I’m a nightmare, Jen, you should
run a mile.’

‘Relationship avoidance has been my policy
for years, honey, why would I run from incredible sex with a dynamic parcel
deliverer? It’s the perfect scenario!’

That evening,
Jenny’s hand delved into her knickers drawer in search of a dildo. As she
settled back against her bedcovers, closing her eyes, she circled the neon tool
along her inner thighs and up to her
center
.

He’s
right; I should run a mile… I probably will… soon, but first there’s something
I need to do... High time I took charge, I think!

Tuesday

The Plan

I have a plan. I just hope I can hold my courage and see it through…

‘I don’t have long.’

John’s familiar words spilled from his
mouth as he crossed the threshold of Jenny’s home. Throwing a handful of DVDs
carelessly across the sofa, his lips were on hers before she had the chance to
speak, his hands diving up and under her mini denim skirt. A murmur of
appreciation escaped him as his
travelling
fingertips discovered her lack of knickers and stocking tops.
‘Shit, woman, you get hotter!’

Allowing him to fall into their regular
pattern, Jenny let John lead her towards the armchair. ‘You wanton woman,
you’re already wet, aren’t you?’

‘I knew you were on your way.’ Jenny didn’t
say anything else as she undid his buttons, pulling his belt from his trousers,
loop by loop. Stroking the leather lovingly between her fingers, she smiled.
‘Did I ever tell you that I love belts?’ Without waiting for a response, Jenny
freed his length and made a fist around his cock. She pumped him twice –
as she’d pre-planned in the solo-quiet of the previous evening – before
abruptly letting go of him and walking away.

John’s face was a vision of pure confusion
as, with hands on her hips, Jenny calmly said, ‘Get on your knees, delivery
man.’ He only hesitated for a fraction of a second before stepping free of his
pants and dropping to the floor.

Moving forward, without a word Jenny
gestured for John to remove his t-shirt. Walking around him in a slow circle,
she examined him from every angle. John had had things his own way for weeks.
It was her turn now. The old Jenny had certainly been willingly submissive
– someone who relished being led rather than leading – but that didn’t
mean she didn’t have the occasional urge to turn the tables and make her
partner beg for mercy. She just hoped she hadn’t lost her touch.

Taking a black scarf from a collection of
supplies she’d hidden beneath the sofa, Jenny deftly tied his arms behind his
back. Unable to hide her pleasure as she continued to study him, Jenny
whispered, ‘There is truly nothing as fantastic to behold as a fuck-me handsome
man without power.’

Kneeling before John, she saw that his
wide, dark brown eyes were watching her intently. Kissing each of his eyelids,
Jenny collected a blindfold from its hiding place and, with a suggestive raise
of her eyebrows and a teasing waggle of her fingers, plunged him into darkness.
As John opened his mouth to speak, his
favourite
customer placed a fingertip across his
lips. ‘No talking. Yes?’

John nodded obediently.

Viewing her enslaved lover, Jenny stroked
his chest, enjoying the light spring of his hair as it tickled her palms. She
knew she was going to make John late for the remainder of his rounds, but she
didn’t care, and was going to make sure that he didn’t either.

Reveling
in her unprecedented freedom, Jenny let her skirt fall to the
floor, her memory teeming with images of their previous animal coupling in the
back of his lorry. Her knees and backside still bore the marks of their frantic
encounter.

Discarding her shirt and freeing her
breasts, she made sure the cotton material caressed John’s tattoos, cleverly
letting him know that she was undressing. Jenny placed her hands on John’s
shoulders, pushing him so that he was face down on the soft carpet, his hands
bound behind him, his arse in the air.

Beginning at his feet, Jenny began a
thorough survey of John’s whole body by stroking a silk handkerchief over his
ankles, making him writhe under its tickling touch. Moving it stealthily up the
back of his legs, she could taste the sharp tang of tension that infused the
room.

He squirmed under her touch. Jenny could
tell he was trying to anticipate her next move while struggling not to speak,
and she smiled to herself as she dragged the gentle weapon of torture up behind
his knees.

By the time Jenny approached the rounded
cheeks of his magnificent arse, John’s breathing was ragged, and his tethered
hands were clenched together with the effort of not pleading with her to speed
up.

Completely absorbed in her task,
alternating between both light and firm pressure, Jenny smoothed every inch of
his back, his bum, and his sides with the handkerchief, making him flinch and
whine until, as she reached his neck, he couldn’t keep quiet any longer. ‘Oh
hell, girl, I…’

Cutting through John’s sentence, Jenny
said, ‘As I said earlier, I am very fond of belts. I particularly like the
marks they leave behind when they bite the flesh. That sort of blotched, fuzzy,
pink patchwork pattern.’

Winding the leather strap around her wrist
before she took aim, Jenny let a gentle smack land against John’s butt. His
sigh encouraged her, and she began to increase the power behind her strikes.
Quickly building up a rhythm, Jenny ignored the growing crescendo of mixed
wincing pleasure and protests that shot from his lips as she created a pleasing
criss-cross of gridlines on her courier’s taut ass cheeks.

Stopping abruptly, hoping she’d made enough
of an impression on his backside for him to feel her presence for the rest of
the day, Jenny ordered John to sit up.

She lifted his chin, gave him a lingering
kiss, and instructed him in no uncertain terms to shift onto his back. John,
his lips pressing together, moved awkwardly, his arms trapped uncomfortably
beneath him.

Resuming her delicate torture, Jenny began
to work the fabric from his feet and up his legs, watching with fascination as
his dick stirred. The courier was trying his best to obey her commands, to
resist the urge to turn the tables and ravage her. Jenny – torn between
being satisfied with his endurance and wanting to take his obedience further
– struggled with her own increasing arousal and fought to maintain
control.

As the handkerchief approached his balls,
Jenny cruelly skipped the area, moving onto his navel and chest, smiling to
herself as his whole body shook with disappointed tension. Focusing on his
nipples, Jenny rubbed the material over each one, at first gently and then
scraping her nails viciously across the sensitive flesh. His brow furrowed as
his concentration became more fixed.

Only when another moan escaped him did she
withdraw from his chest and head south. Wrapping the silken cloth around John’s
shaft, Jenny pulled it taut, dragging the loose ends of it along his testicles,
investigating every section of his scrotum with delicately precise attention.

Glancing up at his chest, Jenny could see
the telltale blotching of scarlet dapple his skin, and knew he was close to
coming. Her own need was also almost at breaking point, and she knew the time
had come to put them both out of their blissful misery. Teasing a finger over
his mouth to remind him to remain quiet, Jenny
maneuvered
John’s body into a cross-legged
sitting position and undid his binds. Then, picking up his hands, she placed
them over her breasts while inhaling the delicious aroma of his body, which
smelled of hard work with a pleasant undercurrent of sweet sweat.

Instantly, John began to
mould
them with his
palms as Jenny fished a condom from her optimistically purchased supply. Easing
herself onto him, Jenny slapped his legs sharply whenever he tried to move with
her. At an agonizing snail’s pace, she began to juice him, rising up and down,
until she couldn’t take anymore.