The UPS Guy Page 7

  Dex squeezed her titties and nudged her legs wider with his knee. He was breathing really hard and the touch of his tanned flesh was like being touched by the heat of the sun.

  “Oh, god, I want it!” Kate shrieked in whorish shame as she finally realized that it was really happening—her hands were caressing the dancer whose briefs had been stuffed with money; the stripping unicorn from the white bed on the stage set at CANDY MAN—her legs were wrapping around his naked waist and the tanned burning chest, the massive arms and the full young buttocks, hard as a basket ball—were finally upon her.

  MOTION DETECTOR

  The UPS guy held Kate’s arms back over her head by the wrists. Then he poked his dick hard against the panicked face of her kitten, but it wouldn’t go in at first.

  He had to keep pushing and pushing until he found the hole and forced open the pink lips.

  “So you’re a Conservative Republican woman, ha? I don’t think I’ve ever had one of those before.”

  Kate was too drowsy to answer. Her body felt like putty and the burning slosh of her vagina as Dex entered and stroked it very softly, very gently—was lolling her to sleep.

  “Is this good? You want to feel peaceful, relaxed?”

  “Oh yes,” Kate cooed as Dex stuck it deeper and deeper—but did so with slow, massaging lunge motions.

  Patiently, he caressed.

  And what she didn’t know—was that this was Dex’s way of hypnotizing his women. He got their heart rates and their equilibrium off kilter by eating them out madly; then he held them by the wrists with their arms over their heads and he penetrated them slow and gently; caressing the pussy into such a relaxed calm that the nerve endings to the brain and spine sedated the pulse rate and caused a kind of nap to occur.

  “Relax baby, I want you to dream.”

  And then once the eyes were closed and the women began to nap—he fucked them asleep and whispered dream suggestions in their ears to heighten the power of his performance.

  “We’re on the beach—just the two of us—holding hands, walking. You hear the seagulls.”

  Kate was there. With Dex, the surf and the breeze sweeping across their bodies like utter life freshened by joy. It was so beautiful! And so wonderful!

  Oh my god, she loved it—the serenity!

  “I want you to feel…what a woman is supposed to feel.” Slow and steady, Dex fucked inside her. He said, “I want you to feel what the UPS guy has to offer you—what no other man can do to your mind, your body, your soul.”

  Dex said that they were surfing—and like magic—Kate was on the surf board; her body ebbing and flowing with what appeared to be the most miraculous wave! It gushed against the shore, dispensing her in water and pushing her back to the top—but the moment she got scared; Dex was there—holding her, laughing and kissing her cheeks.

  Then he was massaging her on a beach blanket. The sun felt so warm and rejuvenating; not oppressive—and Dex’s hands slathered her skin with sun tan lotion. Kneading, caressing and massaging until she literally felt as though she didn’t have a back bone.

  “Oh Dex.”

  And then she could feel it again—his dick. Gently, sticking and poking, but steadily picking up the pace until Kate couldn’t help but awaken to find that she was totally enraptured in the passionate joys of male kindness and ecstasy.

  Dex had the stroke of a magician, the motions of a surfer gliding over pearly moons and chirping dolphins. No man’s penis had ever felt so tranquil and nurturing inside her.

  So when he started to gallop and the fuck intensified—it only heightened her pleasure.

  “This is what you deserve every day of your life, beautiful woman.” And with that, he buried his kisses against her neck, soft and sweetly. His hands steadying the curves of her trembling as deeper and deeper, stronger and faster—he fucked her with a smoothness; an elegance; a masterfulness—a confidence that was nothing less than remarkable.

  “How can we keep this moment?” the UPS guy asked as he banged Kate in the back of his truck the way that teenaged boys bang girls in parked cars—cramped, forbidden and illicit—but unmatched in the youthful craving for adventure and excitement.

  “Oh god!” Kate screamed as his buttocks began to bounce a little bit faster and Dex began poking it in different directions—alternately stirring her pussy left to right with such a frenzy until all she could do was babble, flinging her legs up and down around his waist in a bow across his back.

  “I’m going to make you cum,” Dex whispered in her ear. And Kate had felt moments ago that it was about to happen. But now it was severe, not just tingling and creeping. And the burning gush mounted up in the center of her stomach like a hurricane and started sweeping through her body like hot flashes.

  Dex dicked her hard at that moment.

  He banged with straight jabs, jiggling her titties and bobbling her speech.

  “Come on, Doc, take it all for daddy—can you do that?”

  Kate was scared to, but then she let go and let him in for as deep as his fucking could buck.

  And when she did that, it felt it even better.

  Nirvana…circulation…speed…heat…rush…rushing.

  Flow…flowing.

  ‘Oh shit, baby!” Dex moaned, excitedly.

  His dick was deep in the cherry-soft part and he thought he was fucking her kidneys—it felt so good!

  “I’m going to cum,” Dex told her with a shaking voice. But Kate was already like a feather falling in mid-air; so peaceful and reserved—and yet she was trembling with fire and panic and the breathless blow of multiple orgasms.

  Together, in the back of the truck, they crashed into the light.

  And then after Kate thought that she couldn’t move another muscle, Dex Kellogg was up and quickly dressed. His mail deliveries and his assignments behind schedule and his body and face tensed with impatience as he had to get his work done.

  “I’m sorry for distracting you,” Kate said while dressing.

  “That’s OK,” Dex told her.

  He checked that the coast was clear and then he let her out of the back of the truck.

  Kate stood at the curb for a moment, her face looking back to give a goodbye smile—but the look on Dex’s face as he stood in the back door was one of sudden disinterest.

  Of course it came as a shock to Kate there on the curb—but at her age, she couldn’t understand why it should have.

  “Here’s your packages,” Dex barked as Kate ran back to grab them.

  He made no eye contact and he was firmly back into his work schedule and serious about it.

  “Is that how it’s going to be!?” Kate demanded.

  “You take care of yourself,” Dex nodded with a hurried smile. The conquest of Dr. Kate Nixon had been accomplished and now there were other conquests that the UPS guy had to make. He didn’t have time for puppy dog eyes and emotional talk from an old broad he’d just fucked the shit out of.

  Kate couldn’t believe it, but then again—she should have known it!

  The brown truck rumbled up its engine and drove off quick.

  Dex didn’t wave, nod back, bomp the horn or even give the rest of the block its packages. He was gone.

  Kate went back inside the gate. Wisely, she forced a smile on her face. If nothing else, she was grateful that after so many years, a man had once again taken her down from the shelf and un-dirtied her; breathed life back into her.

  She wasn’t mad.

  In fact, as she walked up the path and onto the back porch, she realized that Dex Kellogg had done her a favor. It was better this way—no strings; no complications.

  They had fucked and the UPS guy had made her feel addicted to his tongue and his dick and now it was over—he was off to service some other needy older woman, Kate told herself.

  “But at least he put the fire back in me,” she smiled. “Thank you, Dex…thank you.”

  KEEPING A LIGHT

  IN THE WINDOW

  That night, she le
t Vincent Bonn come over.

  He didn’t know that she had changed in any way—but he brought a bouquet of the prettiest flowers Kate had ever seen and the way he smiled at her made her feel so beautiful.

  “What’s that I smell?” Vincent asked.

  “I’m baking an old recipe I used to make when I had more time for cooking—leg of lamb with mint sauce.”

  “Smells delicious, I’m hungry already.”

  “Here,” Kate said as they walked into her sunken living room and were about to sit by the fire and talk. “Have a glass of Merlot with me.”

  “That sounds great babe.”

  Kate poured two glasses and went to the couch to serve, but as she bent to hand Vincent his glass, she noticed there were tears in his boyish blue eyes.

  “Vincent? Vincent, what’s wrong?”

  He nodded to the coffee table.

  Kate looked over and saw a small ring box on top of it.

  Immediately, she knew what was in it—a ring. But why would he do something like that so prematurely. She looked at Vincent and started to scold him, but he stood up and he raised his voice first.

  “I’m not a kid, Kate—I’m a grown fucking man and I know what I want and why I want it. I want you to be my wife. And the reason is a very natural one, it’s because after two years of bowling and swimming and talking together, I realize that I’m in love with you. And that I have always…since the day your son brought me to this house…been in love with you.”

  “I’ve had three failed marriages, Vincent.”

  “I don’t give a fuck! All I care about is you and me and what we want now! And I want you…I’ve always wanted you.”

  Filled with desire, he set her wine down and took her in his arms. He kissed her hard on the mouth.

  Then when she opened her eyes—he had the box in his hand and he opened it so that she could see the beautiful twinkling pink diamond Chestnut Harvest ring.

  “I love you so much, Kate,” he said through his tears. “I just want you in my life so bad. I want to make you happy—and make you safe and keep you young. Yes—keep you young!”

  Tenderly, he touched her face. He kissed her again.

  Of course, Kate was crying, too. She clasped her hand over her mouth and she burst into tears.

  To her shock, she said, “Yes, Vincent—yes. I’m a fool for doing it, but I will. I’ll marry you.”

  Vincent jumped in the air shouting up to god in disbelief, “YES!”

  Then they both laughed. And they cried. And then they sat by the fire and just held each other.

  “I can’t wait to make love to you,” Vincent told her.

  “Let’s do wait if you don’t mind—until after the wedding?”

  “After waiting this many years, I think that would be a great idea.”

  He kissed her deep and passionately.

  He whispered, “I’ll never leave you, Kate—never. I’ll never hurt you and I’ll always be here. I love you.”

  And for the first time in her life, Kate knew that it was true.

  Later, after dinner, they stood out by the pool with glasses of sparkling water, their eyes looking up to the purple blackness of the smoggy California night and its nearly hidden stars and they accepted them for what they were—life.

  ~

  ~

  AFTER

  THE CLUB

  •

  .

  Jackie Christian

  ~`~

  ~`~

  Olivia

  “…club music makes everyone beautiful;

  Bombed, stoned, dancing drunk…the music

  and the energy makes you wanna fuck.”

  •

  Sucking dick; tasting the music

  Body to body

  Riding the devil

  Kissing; fucking

  …absorbing the beat

  Tall sexy blond girl

  --dancing in heat

  ••

  Olivia Nixon refused to remain sad.

  Insatiably, she touched herself; caressed herself.

  With the other hand, she puffed on a blunt, her mouth sucking in the sweet marijuana smoke as her lungs held the burn. Ooooh burning weed, burning weed—burn my chest. Then she exhaled it, the smoke making water in her eyes.

  Smart, young and beautiful, the usually shy nineteen year old blond had spent the past few weeks dealing with her psychiatrist mother marrying a much younger man—a man Olivia’s age—by forcing herself to go out to the dance clubs and learn how to dance.

  “When you dance,” one of her gay male friends had told her. “It’s an extension of how you fuck; how you make love; how you dream; how you sing—everything that represents the free spirit inside you, Olivia—that’s what dancing is. And that’s how you dance. You just let yourself go.”

  Olivia knew about the magic in dancing, because she’d once been infatuated with a male stripper at CANDY MAN, an unbelievably sexy UPS guy named Dex Kellogg. And to watch Dex do his moves was to witness poetry in motion. Dancing infused him with power and beauty. It literally made Olivia fall in love with him. But once it became clear that he didn’t want Olivia, no matter how young and hot-looking she was, she’d stopped frequenting the male stripper shows at CANDY MAN. And in fact, now that she was learning to dance herself, she’d started visiting the various dance clubs around Sherman Oaks and even as far out as Santa Monica and Venice Beach. The club she liked best was a youth-oriented house-techno joint called “Democratic Headquarters.”

  The men there were foine and the music was always thumping Paisley—everybody on the dance floor in a communal thrust.

  Dick, penis, heartbeat, cunt.

  Olivia shook her body in the mirror; getting Jiggy with it. She licked her lips and said, “I’m going to make myself do it…bring a guy home from the club tonight.”

  Flavoring her tongue with drags of marijuana, Olivia remembered the other night when she met this guy who looked…well…he was slim and Indian and very feminine—looking so much like the guy named Sanjaya from “AMERICAN IDOL” that Olivia insisted he must be Sanjaya! From every angle, Olivia kept staring at him, appraising him…her eyes demanding “are you Sanjaya the fine ass Indian singer from “American Idol”? No, you can’t be.” And when she finally opened her mouth and begged him to tell her whether he was really Sanjaya from “American Idol” or a look-a-like, partly in drag, the fluffy haired sexy Indian boy in the fish net stockings and root beer lip gloss had smiled teasingly, mysteriously and replied, “Just call me Boy Bitch. That’s what everyone at Democratic Headquarters calls me—Boy Bitch.”

  I suck dick like a little bitch

  I act like a girl

  I think you like my candy

  My hair rocks your world

  “Nice to meet you, Boy Bitch. My name’s Olivia.”

  That whole night Olivia and Boy Bitch had danced in a haze of wild strutting Depeche Mode reefer-glam—Olivia shaking her long blond hair at every beat and Boy Bitch scolding her for “dancing like a tired ass white girl.” The funny part being when Boy Bitch, clad in fish net stockings that were cut open to reveal his ass cheeks in the back, dragged Olivia in the guy’s restroom re-fixed her makeup and her—and then took her back out on the dance floor and danced with her from the back, literally forbidding her to use her hair to dance with and guiding her arms and pelvis, until the “stiffness” in her moves faded away and she felt a decadent vibe flowing all throughout her body—a touch of Boy Bitch’s flair and flamboyance, his undeniable yet outrageous daring.

  “You gotta dance like you wanna fuck—think Tina Turner; Ciara, Usher, Justin.”

  And now standing in the mirror, that’s what Olivia Nixon felt as she traded puffs on a joint while applying her eyeliner and mascara just the way Boy Bitch had taught her to do it.

  “Is it bad that I didn’t enjoy losing my virginity two weeks ago…and now all I can think about is sex and experiencing it again?” Olivia had asked Boy Bitch that night with tears in her eyes.<
br />
  “Don’t worry blond shy girl. You’ll meet somebody at the club and take him home.”

  “Or he might take me home.”

  “No! Never let a man take you home—they might be filming it with video cameras; you don’t want them making money off their one night stand and spreading your business in the street. You listen to your fairy godmother when I tell you to always, always make sure it’s your place, shy blond girl.”

  Olivia couldn’t stop thinking about it.

  Somebody tall with a buff chest and dark hair, she wondered? Or maybe these two brothers she knew. Or this one guy, an ex-marine he claimed—or then again, the cute bartender.

  Or why not even sexy Boy Bitch himself?

  She’d like that. Touching and putting her tongue in the mouth of a boy/girl who looked so much like Sanjaya from “American Idol”—her favorite Idol of all time—only he wasn’t Sanjaya. He was her fairy godmother, the one who taught her to dance and that it was alright if she wanted to get fucked.

  Deeply sucking the rolled marijuana…ooh.

  Her pussy was like a furnace!

  “Look at me, I need to get ready—I’m going to dance my ass off tonight.”

  Olivia Nixon applied Bubble Gum lip gloss to her mouth, wetting her lips sensuously. In the mirror, staring back into the mirror of her own eyes, she could see herself on the dance floor—guys circling and scoping her ass; her legs. Then she could see herself naked and laughing on a bed getting fucked.

  It wasn’t about being a HO or anything—it was about dreams and feeling so disappointed after losing her virginity two weeks prior to a guy who plain couldn’t fuck worth shit.

  I want it.

  I need it.

  Olivia saw herself entering the doors of the club; men everywhere—dancing, smiling; offering to buy her a drink.