Special Delivery 60

Every time my doorbell rang it took me back to the old school super cheesy porn with the delivery man coming to the door, shirt unbuttoned showing muscular and glistening pecs. Then the poor clueless, scantily clad young girl doesn't have enough money to pay, but thankfully he's kind enough to accept "services" as rendered payment. Cue music...bomchicabombom

This delivery man presented at my door in a tight little uniform that hugged his crotch; well packaged and displayed; I would sign for that any day.

I watched him bend over to put my package down and saw how the blue polyester clung to his high and tight ass and strong quads.

This was at least the 3rd drop off in as many weeks and I've been building up the nerve to say something to get him to stay, or better yet come back on his personal time.

Sigh, I never do though, he must know I order from them on purpose just so I can get their delivery service.

Has he noticed I'm always just stepping out of the shower or in my shortest shorts, or cutest, tightest top? Has he never seen a cheesy porn to know how this is supposed to work?

Well today is the day. It's a new year, no more regrets and no more useless packages just to see him.

Not even realizing how long I'd been having this conversation in my head; he'd already said good-bye and was making his way out of my condo.

I ran after him, down the hall and out the door to the street in my slides with my robe flying open and lose bun on the top of my head unravelling, into the rain.

He was climbing inside the back of his truck with his back turned to me.

"Excuse me," I said a little winded, "Um do you have another package back there for me?"

I'm such a chicken shit. I bloody know there was only one package, I just needed the excuse.

He said he'd double check but the battery just died in his tracker I could step in if I wanted to wait a minute out of the rain while he changed them. I stepped in and he pulled down the back door.

It was a little dark, smelling of cardboard and no shortage of dust, lined with two steel shelves on both sides of the truck, full of packages big and small and some were on the ground.

He looked at his tracker with fresh batteries and said, "No; nothing else for you today, sorry" and looking up finally he saw me. Like actually noticed that I did get wet in the rain and my white tank top was sticking to my heaving chest (from nerves not from running) and showing the white lace holding my breasts and clearly hard nipples in. Of course, I have on the matching little white shorts, no panty.

I couldn't come up with a line fast enough as hard as I was racking my brain to remember how these scenes go, luckily, I didn't have to.

"Do you want to see my package?" he asked straight faced, but then it turned into a devilish grin. Oh my fucking gosh, I got weak in the knees. So cheesy it was hot.

I didn't answer with words, instead I stepped to him cautiously to make sure I wasn't misreading the situation because that would be unbearably embarrassing. When he licked his lips and smiled like LL Cool J would, I took my cue and unbuckled his belt and undid his zipper slowly.

I needed the time to process that my fantasy was actually happening.

He grabbed the ends of my sash from my robe and used them to draw me close to him. He kissed my neck, and grabbed my ass. Hmm, strong hands and a little rough. I like it.

I've waited for this for a while and I went all in, and arched my back pointing my nipples to the ceiling and he reciprocated by pulling down my tank and biting through my bra. I fumbled for his waistband to pull his pants down while he was backing me up against the shelf. He slammed into me with his hardness and while I was rebounding off of the hard metal, he pulled my robe off and it fell around my feet. A white pile was forming on the ground and it wasn't even bothering me to think how dirty they were getting. There was no soft touch moving up my thigh to gently shimmy down my shorts; only the strong hands of manual labour tearing down delicate lace. This whole truck scene was a little grimy; but today grimy was where it was at. He hooked his arm under my left knee to lift my leg, then the other and lifted me onto the edge of the lower shelf so I was teetering off slightly. The cold steel of the rim was digging into me. Packages tumbled to the ground, and I reached into his pants and pulled out his throbbing member, it sprang out and up. And I let out the deepest gasp/exhale from the bottom of my stomach when he penetrated me with a hard and deep stroke. He shocked the shit out of me and I instinctively reached for the top shelf to hold onto. It also gave me the leverage to be able to bare my ass down even more and push back on it to take it in even deeper. Inhale, and breathe. I couldn't call out his name, I'm not sure if his nametag was even right, but he was certainly saying, no yelling and grunting my name. So, stick to the script, it works for porn stars, and I said, "Fuck me harder Daddy," and he did.

We were going so hard and getting so hot my ass slipped off the shelf and it was the first time my feet had touched the ground in at least 15 minutes.

My foot crushed the box, on my right, sorry K. Jones of 2A.

Without skipping a beat, I was turned around and bent over, I spread my legs a little wider and expanded my arms out wide to get the best grip with my hands on the lip of the shelf.

If pornhub.com POV has taught me anything, the sexy thing to do right now is turn and look at him over my shoulder and bite my lip in ecstasy. Looking at me still with his warm thick right hand he reached in between my legs and stroked my clit with alternating fingers. And I started a little wriggling dance to move with his rhythm and fully relaxed splaying myself across the shelf like it was a pillow.

Not that he needed to, but he stroked his tip with the same hand before slowly sliding himself back in between my warm pink lips. The truck rocked with us and 15 minutes later he left a special package on my lower back; and I've been getting a delivery once a week ever since.