Door Dash Ch 02

I have a car and some spare time so I earn a little extra as a Door Dash driver. Easy work and useful money. As far as I was concerned the work was hassle free except for one small incident I don't want to go into.

I'd just received an order to deliver and was wondering whether to accept it or make up an excuse for refusing. The trouble with refusing is that the store might decide you're unreliable and that one refusal might cost you a dozen future jobs. I gave a mental groan and took the order.

I drove to the nominated address - Robert's place. Robert was the source of the small incident I referred to. I didn't really want to see him again but needs must when the devil drives. In this case the devil was money. If I wanted it I had to do the work.

Arriving at his place I was tempted to just dump his stuff on the ground, toot my horn, and drive off. Politeness prevailed, plus I didn't want a complaint about the service. I stacked everything neatly next to the door and rang the bell. Moments later Robert answered.

"Door Dash," I said and I could feel the chill in my voice. "You'll have to carry things in yourself. Ah, what happened to you?" No way was I entering that house, but I was curious about the cast on his arm.

"Remember I told you that I'd sprained my wrist? It seems that I was in error. It's broken and will be in a cast for weeks."

I smiled at the news. Serves him right in my opinion.

"Oh, too bad," I said in mock sympathy. It should have been his neck in my opinion.

"Indeed. Ah, could you take the things inside for me?"

"You're kidding," I said. "What on earth makes you think I'll do that?"

"What would the supermarket think if you refuse? With a broken arm you have to admit I'm harmless."

"Get your brother to help you," I riposted. "You don't need me."

"He's interstate and won't be back for a week. Please."

I have to admit I felt a certain amount of trepidation as I brought everything inside but Robert behaved himself. When I brought the last few things in Robert reached for his wallet and I had a nervous spasm but he only took out a five. That I could accept with no qualms. I took the money and pocketed it.

Now I hadn't trusted Robert from the word go but ready to leave and having received my tip I guess my vigilance slipped a little. Releasing the note into my clutching fingers Robert did some clutching of his own. He simply grabbed me and pushed me so I was bent forward over the kitchen table, his cast a bar of iron across my back, preventing me from struggling.

Not again was the thought that flashed through my mind even as I was voicing a protest.

"What do you think you're doing?" I demanded, knowing full well what he intended to do.

He didn't say anything but the speed at which he dropped my tracksuit pants and panties spoke for itself.

"Don't you dare," I wailed, knowing full well that he would. I knew I shouldn't have entered the damn house.

His hand slid between my legs, feeling me up. Then he laughed.

"All hot and wet and ready," he observed. "You've been expecting this."

True, I had, but expecting is not the same as wanting. I yelled at him and was ignored, except for his hand having some fun.

"Time to get the show on the road," he finally said, his fingers spreading my lips a little. More than a little, actually, making a place for his damned trouser snake to strike.

I distinctly remembered the previous incident and assumed that this would be more of the same. Wrong. He drove fiercely into me with me giving a startled scream, not having expected that. That done he went at it hammer and tongs, no sooner in me and he was withdrawing, ready for the next thrust. And he was getting to me, my body responding and reacting as if this was what it had been waiting for.

He pounded me and kept it up, offering no reprieve from his attentions. I found myself squealing with excitement, much to my disgust. I just seemed unable to shut up.

He must have used the volume of noise I was making to judge how far along I was. There was a slight change to his rhythm and that was it as far as I was concerned. I climaxed very noisily, sensing that he'd reached that point as well and was flooding me internally. (Thank god for the pill.)

I straightened my clothes, glaring daggers at him. He had the audacity to wink and produce his wallet again, this time producing a fifty.

"A tip for going above the call of duty," he said.

I snatched it from his hand, tempted to screw it up and throw it at him. A saner voice pointed out it was a fifty so I stuffed it in my pocket and departed, thinking nasty thoughts.

See if I'd deliver to him again. He could starve before I'd Door Dash for him again. I did my best to ignore that little voice that said that's a hundred and fifty in two trips. Good money really and you know you enjoyed the attention.