I work as a high-end trusted courier, not the deliver your parcels in a van sort. We carry items like bearer bonds, diamonds, and Lewis chessmen, person to person anywhere in the world. We're a small firm based in Montréal of about twenty-five people that remains largely anonymous except to those using our services.
The firm was started by my boss Constance some twenty years ago and I've been with the firm for three years now. Most of the couriers are women, like me, but we do have male couriers as well - some clients, particularly the Japanese require it. Constance would argue that women make better couriers, but I suspect she just likes the idea of being a female business. As well as the couriers, there are various others like office admin and IT support, all the usual dross that fills out the rank and file in any business.
I enjoy the job as it has enabled me to see the world. I have been to France, Germany, Greece, Italy, South Africa, the United States, and of course, multiple locations here in Canada. Constance likes the couriers to always appear fresh, so she is liberal with time allowance and hotels. There is even a clothing allowance. Lack of freshness leads to mistakes apparently, so even a domestic run which could be completed in a single day is allowed to run overnight.
Our couriers used to work a job alone, but after a nasty mugging incident in Milan, all of our couriers now travel with a "shadow". In theory the shadow is supposed to maintain a distance from the courier and watch for potential trouble. In practice the courier and shadow essentially travel together, stay in the same hotel, in fact, do the entire trip together apart from the actual pickup and delivery.
Constance insists that every employee experiences the core of the business. This means that everyone is expected to take a turn at being a shadow for a courier. Some employees like doing this and do it regularly, others get it over and done with and never do it again.
One week Constance fingered me for a Vancouver pickup and New York delivery. Couriers are always given the courtesy of knowing what they are carrying, especially if crossing an international border. Often you don't find out until the actual pickup, but in this case I already knew. I would be carrying a sapphire laden diamond necklace. I knew this because in the previous week before I had couriered the same item in the reverse direction. I certainly couldn't wear it, of course. It spent the entire trip inside a beautiful locked wooden case, but the owner had been kind enough to open it and show me at the outset.
Normally I would choose my own shadow and work on the itinerary, but that week I was already busy setting up another run for later in the month. When Cara offered to prep the run, I was more than pleased. I expected Cara would act as my shadow for the run, since we had worked well together in the past. The mischievous glint she had in her eye, only reinforced my belief that she was scheming ahead for a little girl fun on the run.
Come departure day, it's not Cara that joins me at the departure lounge at Montréal-Trudeau, but Nigel. Nigel the newbie. Nigel the nerd. To be fair, nerdy, but good looking.
Nigel had been hired into IT support just a few weeks prior. Why had Cara sprung him on me? Well, I suppose in all fairness, this was a fairly innocuous run, a good chance for Nigel to learn the ropes.
After all the usual boarding hassles, I settle back for the six hour flight to Vancouver. Nigel has a seat in a different row, so I'm spared having to speak geek. Instead, I get a young boy and his mother next to me.
"Are you a princess?" he asks.
Cute.
We touch down at Vancouver International at 18:00. Uber to the hotel. Check in.
Ha ha, very funny Cara, single room for the pair of us with one queen bed. I'm hungry, so I tell Nigel we will sort out the room later, let's go eat.
...
A while later we are back in the room. I call down to arrange an extra room. Sorry, there are no further rooms available. Typical. Well it is a big bed and it is only one night.
...
Nigel says, "I've not done this before."
"Done what?"
"Had sex."
I was about to retort, "And you're not about to either." But I'm not a total bitch and it's kind of touching that he would tell me this. So instead, "Perhaps we can remedy that, but I can't have word getting around the office."
Nigel tells me he's very good at keeping secrets and nothing that happens will pass his lips. In this I sure he's sincere.
"Come on then," I say. Nigel doesn't need a second invitation. He is on the bed with me in a second, his pants gone and a large erection pushing at me.
I tell him to put a condom on. Of course, he doesn't have one. I want to tell him no condom, no sex, but I'm in the mood for this now. I figure if he's a virgin there's not much chance he has an unwelcome disease.
"Sheesh Nigel, just tonight I'll let you go bare, but you need to get yourself organized for the next girl you bed."
I'm hoping he is getting the picture that tonight is a one off, but I suspect his dick is doing all his thinking by this point.
He rolls on top of me and without any kind of preliminary his cock is stabbing at my pussy but missing the mark. I'm telling him to slow down when he lets out a groan and I feel the warm liquid erupt from his penis over my mound, belly, and thighs. He apologies and I'm left wanting.
I grab his hand and push it at my pussy. "Use your fingers," I moan. He gets the idea roughly stabbing two fingers into me and wriggling them around. I'm still quite dry, but his urgency soon gets my juices flowing. I use my own hands on my nipples to try and quicken my arousal.
I tell him to rub my clit, but he doesn't seem to know what or where that is. I use my hand to guide his to the right place, "here." He gets the idea as my need increases and I start pushing my hips at him.
I reach for his cock. It is hard again, or perhaps it never went soft after his initial effort. I pull him onto me again, and help guide him to the mark. This time he goes in. He's thin, but long. Deeper and deeper he slides until I feel the top of his knob pushing against my cervix.
His hand continues to work on my clit and I orgasm with my pelvic muscles clamping down on his cock trying to milk it. Nigel manages a few thrusts before he cums for a second time.
With that we both drift off to sleep.
I awaken later with Nigel's cock once again inside me, but from behind. He is lightly rocking back and forth. It feels like he is violating me by imposing on me while I was asleep, but I guess I had kind of consented to this earlier. Anyway it feels good, better than his earlier efforts. He is no longer rushed, and is making slower longer strokes, trying to lengthen the experience.
I'm not sure if he knows that I'm awake, so I lie quietly as he continues his slow rhythm. His arm comes around me and cups one of my breasts and his fingers find my already taut nipple. He lightly rubs along the sides of my swollen nipple and I cannot help but start to move in time to his motions.
We cum together both making low moans, but not a word is spoken. Nigel removes his cock from my pussy, but keeps his arm loosely around me cuddling up to me from behind as I drift off again.
In the morning Nigel seems embarrassed. He wont meet my eyes and mumbles something about getting ready for the day.
...
The pickup goes smoothly and within hours we are once again in the air
