The UPS Guy Read online

  And because the fucking would be right in front of the husband, Sergio couldn’t contain the mad hardness of his dick. He was over the barrel about this being reality and not some jerk-off fantasy.

  He got up and kissed Jewel as though she was the kind of expensive prostitute that men so often fantasize about; hard and sloppy across the mouth. His hands held her face, squeezing it roughly, as though he’d paid for temporary ownership. Then he let his hands roam down her cushy, creamy ass and thighs; merrily groping her tits right in front of her husband.

  Jewel couldn’t believe how hot it was making her—the blatant macho attitude; the aggression; the horniness. Both of the men acting as though they’d just escaped from years in prison and she was the last woman on earth. It was making her insides blaze like a furnace. Sergio flicked her big pink nipples and then he sucked and kissed them madly; his hand cupping her breast as his tongue and face warmed her milk white skin with a chronic fever.

  Dick is what Jewel was about to get—and that’s what she’d been wanting badly—hard, naked unconscionable dick.

  Sergio took her hands and clasped her palms around his dick as it sprung out from the zipper of his pants; making her rub it until it was throbbing. He pulled his pants down and stepped out of them as Jewel clasped and massaged his dick, obediently. And then her husband Jared, still sitting on the chair, took his dick out, too. He was squeezing and bobbing it as he watched Sergio pull down Jewel’s panties and bend her backwards, guiding her onto the bed.

  As his dick began to penetrate the sugary folds of splendor that lay between Jewel’s thighs, Sergio looked over at Jared—the men’s eyes locking in brotherhood as Sergio began stroking inside and Jared said to the Latino, “Tame that sweet white pussy—tame it!”

  “Oh god” Jewel began crying with pleasure, her hands digging into the mattress as she tried to keep her voice quiet so as not to wake the baby—but with full, pleasurable force, Sergio was banging it, and not just straight-banging—but with rhythm and swagger.

  “Fuck me,” she cried as her husband took her hand, squeezing it tightly, the dark handsome stranger fucking her as though he hadn’t had pussy in years.

  “Damn, dude!” Sergio moaned to Jared. “Your wife’s pussy’s so good. I feel like I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

  Stepping up on the bed and squatting over Jewel’s face, Jared said, “If you think that’s something—you ought to feel what her soft mouth is like.”

  And then he slid his dick into his wife’s mouth and gently held the side of her face as she sucked it.

  “Suck my dick,” Jared said to his wife as Sergio slid out of her and slid downward so that he could taste Jewel’s soft wet kitten.

  Tenderly, he licked it, as though it were cream—his tongue dipping inside the snowy soft cream and shivering loose the octaves in the hot pink sloshing. He ate and ate; hungrily pulling the folds until his mouth found the jewel inside Jewel and began teasing and slurping it; circling it with his teeth.

  Flicking, kissing and biting—Sergio ate Jewel’s pussy with just as much ferocity as Jewel sucked her husband’s dick. It went on for a good spell, and then Sergio stuck his dick back inside Jewel’s vagina and started fucking her much harder—this time going for his first nut. Brazenly bucking inside her as she slobbered Jared relentlessly, Sergio convulsed with a loud groan, his ire exploding inside her. And then with a quick bout of movement, Sergio fell away so that Jared could plunge his dick deep into his wife.

  Jewel kept her eyes closed the whole time, but it was because she was enjoying it so much and pretending that one of the men was Tatum Channing and the other was Galen Gering. Surely, her husband had never fucked her with this much skill and intensity, and a big reason for that had to be that he knew Sergio was watching. He also wanted to top Sergio’s stroke—and because of the men’s dueling competition—the Jewel was finally getting the fuck that she’d been wanting for so long.

  Cooing insatiably, she switched to fantasizing about Brad Carlton from Young and the Restless—then it was fine sexy Will Smith jabbing her, then big bad rapper Eminem; blond, hard and non-feeling as his big long White Slim Shady dick pounded inside her like a giant burning hook-shaped finger. OUH shit! Oh Eminem, oh Will, oh Brad Carlton. And then finally, her secret fantasy from back when she was in high school was inside her—President Bill Clinton.

  At last, he was there, and he was getting it—sticking and poking it while the secret servicemen waited out in the hallway or stood around the bed with their arms crossed as Big Bill bounced on top of her, in and out, sticking and dicking Jewel until all she could do was preen and swoon like some alley whore unloosed.

  “Oh!” she moaned as Sergio slid back inside her—bigger and harder than before. He raised Jewel up and turned her over with her face facing the wall so that he could hit it doggy style. Poking his dick inside her, Sergio slapped her across the buttocks causing Jewel to giggle and wince at the same time. Then her husband wiped the sweat from her brow and slipped the marijuana stick he was smoking to her lips and she took a long, hard drag. It was married life in California, and it felt so good.

  Just sooooooo fucking good!

  TOUCH ME

  Olivia Nixon opened her eyes.

  Between her legs where her hand was buried—the rain, snow, sun and fire poured forward like a tumbling avalanche that melted into silver and turned into a river.

  Spiritually, she felt awakened—the river between her vaginal crease shaking like mist and dew as she imagined herself floating out into a warm blue sea—out into endlessness.

  This was the tranquil beauty, the calm god-given spirituality of masturbation and she was so glad to have discovered it.

  Peaceful and languid, she sat up in bed…and she wondered whose hand would ever be allowed to press against the rock hard chest of Dex Kellogg. Whose kiss and whose eyes would he ever be dazzled by?

  Was he just a unicorn? Olivia wondered. Or was he a human who actually ate of the fruit of flesh and desire? Did he find the time and the need? And if so—then who was she? Who was the goddess that had the power to pull him down from his elusive cover model looks and the handsome smugness of his face—who was the woman that could get him into bed?

  Gently, Olivia lay back on her pillow and looked at the ceiling. Softly, she sighed and she let the dream of Dex slip away. She let it leave her forever.

  At her fingertips was the scepter of all sexual power, and in her brain, the life force.

  “I have this endlessness,” she whispered touching herself. “I have this warm blue ocean; this endless freedom and peace. I am inside myself with joy and I am not alone. I am Olivia Nixon…and I don’t need the UPS man.”

  Tenderly, she caressed herself.

  “…Mother of nature and time, please save me. Save me from the UPS man.”

  BIG BROWN TRUCK

  Dr. Kate Nixon didn’t know why she did the things she did that morning. She stayed home and washed her dog Zodiac out on the back porch, and as usual, when the bath went on longer than five minutes—Zodiac tried to resist. He jumped out of the tub and ran down the porch steps and down the walk way, nudged the gate open with his nose and ran across the street.

  “Come back here!” Kate called in amusement as the sopping wet golden retriever wagged his tail from across the street and barked at Kate as though scolding her.

  “You have to take a bath, Zodiac, we all do,” Kate insisted as she went out of the gate. “Now you come back here.”

  Kate went across the street—and that’s when Dex’s truck started to come down the street. Big and brown, it rolled with a rumble and stopped in front of the gate at her back yard.

  Without noticing her on the other side of the street, Dex jumped out of the truck and went around to the back of it—he loosened the back door of the truck and slid it upwards like a window roller. Then he climbed into the back and began sorting the packages that he would have to deliver for the homes on Kate’s street.

  Kate didn�
��t want to see him.

  She figured that she would just sneak back across the street and inside her house. Luckily, because the gate was already open, Dex wouldn’t hear her going inside the yard.

  But right as Kate was thinking so, Zodiac gingerly jetted back across the street and inside the gate. Wagging his tail and panting at Kate with his tongue out—he used his nose to shut the gate back!

  Clink went the gate-latch as it fastened back!

  Damn you, thought Kate, incredulously! She knew dogs were smart, but damn!

  And all because she’d tried to give him a bath.

  Zodiac then pranced up the walkway onto the back porch of the house, walked around the tub full of water with his nose in the air, and did the unthinkable—he entered the house and pushed the back door closed and locked it.

  Kate couldn’t believe it.

  But anyway—forget it. She would just have to go on and walk herself back to the house and not give a damn if Dex Kellogg heard and saw her.

  Stoically, she wiped her brow with her forearm, and then she began to walk back across the street. She would pass the big brown truck from the back, quietly padding in her bedroom slippers, and if she moved swiftly and quietly enough—Dex would never see her.

  But just as she was passing the back of the truck—Dex Kellogg did in fact see her. He had just been about to hop out the back door carrying a stack of packages when he suddenly noticed the slender loose-haired woman with no make up heading for her gate at a brisk, serious pace.

  “Hey,” Dex called, excitedly. “Hey Doc!”

  Kate had her hand on the gate latch and was opening the gate when she turned around, reluctantly. She said, “Hello Dex. I didn’t mean to be out here, but the dog got loose. I really didn’t want to see you.”

  Standing in the back door of the truck, Dex stared at her quizzically. Just what exactly had he done to make this woman turn against him? First she was up for dating him—had given him her number. And then the moment he started calling her to set up a date, she’d put him complete ignore.

  “What did I do wrong?” he called from the truck.

  “Nothing.”

  “Come here,” he insisted.

  But Kate wasn’t up for any more conversations with young studly boy toys. In her mind, she suddenly couldn’t shake a rock song she’d heard at her daughter’s house. It was by the group Nine Inch Nails and basically droned, “I want to fuck you like an animal…” And that’s what Kate Nixon couldn’t escape as Dex hopped down from the back of the truck and motioned her over with his hand. The lick kept repeating and repeating: “I want to fuck you like an animal.”

  “Aren’t I a human being, doctor? Don’t I at least deserve an explanation for why you’re breaking my little heart and shit? I mean, what did I do wrong?”

  Kate walked over to the truck’s rear and stood face to face with Dex Kellogg. Staring up at his wide shoulders, his rock hard chest, his thick athlete’s neck, his boyishly model handsome face and the thick fullness of his dark hair, there was no denying the erotic power of his manly appeal. He was the quintessential UPS man—the cute young muscle guy in the sexy brown shorts that half the women in America fantasized about being fucked by just as they fantasized about the fire man and the hunky dominant police officer.

  “Tell me why you don’t want me,” the UPS guy demanded as he looked down on her with a steely brown stare. Radiating from his body was both a chronic lust and an insecure boyish angst at the fact that he’d been rejected by someone. And of course Kate could tell that rejection was something Dex rarely ever grappled with.

  Finally she said, “My behavior has nothing to do with you. It’s just that I’ve changed my mind about a lot of things—I know better than to play with fire, and you’re fire. Blame it on the Conservative Republican in me. About the most rebellious thing I’ve ever done is vote for Hillary Clinton for President—and even that didn’t quite work out. I’m not the right woman for…”

  Dex grabbed her and kissed her on the mouth.

  Hard, hot and passionate—he kissed her so deep and long that there was no way for her to claim that she didn’t want it.

  “Oh,” she panted pulling away. “Not here on the street.”

  But Dex pulled her into another kiss, this one deeper and less sloppy, less tenuous. Kate’s back muscles weakened and she found herself literally lifted off her feet as Dex’s strong, muscular arms pulled her up into his chest; up into the kiss.

  She was lost in the delicious splendor of it—and she was moving. Her body twirling it seemed, but in reality, Dex Kellogg had lifted her up out of the street and into the back cavity of his truck.

  Feeling the warmth of the interior and smelling the cardboard boxes, Kate opened her eyes.

  “Oh my goodness, you’ll get fired—I’d better get off your truck.”

  But Dex had pulled her onto the truck for a reason and he was only getting started. Masterfully, before she could even calculate a response, he stepped over the pulled the back door of the truck downward and closed.

  Now no one could see them. And in the quiet half-dark, Kate felt her inhibition slacking away into the shadows. Nasty girl butterflies filled her stomach as decadent heat flushed between her legs and drew buttery wetness just as perfectly as a knife draws blood. Her pussy was hot, it was juicy and it was insatiably rebelling against her brain.

  It wanted to be fucked and it didn’t have time for Kate’s fear or her Miss-Priss anxiety.

  Sweet Jesus, the way his one hand steadied her lower back as the other stole beneath her dress—the palm of it diving so that his middle finger dove down the crack of her ass cheeks dragging her panties down from the back—Kate thought she would faint.

  Dex pressed up against her and began kissing and fondling her; kissing her mouth so wantonly and with such masculinity that she felt as though she were being handled by a very romantic boxer. Clunky and uncomfortable as the cavity of the truck was—Kate didn’t fight it when Dex kicked away the card board packages and lowered her into a lying position. Their bodies were like sweating heat cells and they didn’t care about the edgy box-stabs. Seemingly out of nowhere, Dex pulled a thick “comforter” blanket and pillows and positioned them beneath her. So obviously, he had fucked women in his truck before. And as Kate began to picture it—she found that she didn’t care and that she wasn’t jealous. In fact, she expected it from such a perfectly beautiful God-looking specimen as Dex Kellogg. In the physical sense, he really was god’s gift to women, and Kate wasn’t about to argue with god. Dex held and possessed and excited her, and all she wanted was to feel clean. Sensuously, sugar-hot kisses re-ignited her blood flow and her feelings of being dirty were dissipating.

  He slid down between breasts, kissing, sucking and teasing, and then he slid to her navel and sucked it out. His powerful hands holding her steady as his tongue quivered the pale white flesh; darting up to her nipples and between her tits and back down to her navel over and over again in a ticklish helicopter motion that was driving Kate wild.

  Then he went down farther and started licking the creamy kitten face of her powdery white sugar mound.

  Eating sweet pussy—and eating an older woman’s pussy at that—had become Dex Kellogg’s greatest pleasure and the one act in which he thought he was unrivaled. This was how he reduced even the smartest most resistant women into blindness and submission—the artful take-no-prisoners rhythm of his tongue.

  Kate tossed and turned with delirium. And no matter how she tried not to scream; the throbbing electric craziness of all that was connected by nerve endings rang tremors across her pulse and shook her burning, trembling vulva into a hysteria that curled her toes, tickled her elbows and made her squirm with sheer embarrassingly loud ecstasy.

  “Oh god, eat my pussy!” Kate swooned as Dex devoured it madly. His face buried in the warm tranquil sweetness of a temple that had been empty and un-entered for far too long—a vagina that had been untouched and un-fucked by men for what obviously was y
ears. And to be the first in so long—Dex savored it. He licked voraciously, his mouth and tongue eating down the white cliff and puckering the soulful twat lips until every inch of pink boiled and swooned up to his face like fire-cooked strawberries bubbling under sugar water.

  Kate ebbed and rocked back and forth with the rhythm of Dex’s sloshing suck-motion, her pussy lips glazing his face at just the tempo that her hips swiveled and locked him into a plunge.

  He became like a diver; breathing under water as his face took on the mask that was a kitten pussy itself—his face thrashing wildly and covered, so wet and dewy, by its natural sweet stink.

  Stinky-stuff: Ooooh yes! Dex Kellogg groaned, crazily. Stinky-stuff that made it impossible for him to stop eating; to stop licking; to stop devouring—stinky stuff that made his dick so hard he thought the veins on the underside of it would burst through his skin. The head of it blow off—but no, not until he’d eaten Kate out of her sanity. And at last, the bow broke!

  Kate Nixon exploded!

  All up inside herself—the tremors became earthquakes and the rocking of a string of medium orgasms sent her to tears.

  Dex Kellogg intensified his tongue—plunging it deeper and with a harsher whiplash motion until she was CUMING uncontrollably; drizzling the cake icing—Oooh, cuming, cuming. And because it had been years since she’d cum with a man, she cried and moaned with her eyes burned shut and her mouth wide open. Up and down her chest heaved with heavy breathing and sweet docile sex moans that both startled and surprised Kate.

  Dex raised himself up with his face drenched and his manly hands now pulling at the brown shorts top to free him self of the compacted hard on that had bulged him beyond discomfort.

  It was the heavy sock-like jiggle-dick from the Thong dance—only now that it was erect—the hugeness of it frightened Kate.

  Could she take it? It had been so long since…