The Delivery Guy

Is there anything better than having the office to yourself on a Friday afternoon? Smiling contentedly, I turned up the radio on my desk and danced around a little to the lively beat. I mused over how lovely it was to be left alone with my work. "At this rate, I'll be done soon enough so that I can sneak out early, with no one the wiser," I thought to myself.

Updating the physician data files was a task I usually saved for times when our office was quiet and things were slow. Frequently things were so hectic that I didn't get around to this mundane task, but with few distractions that afternoon, I was whipping through a few weeks worth of work in no time at all.

I stepped to the break room to retrieve another pack of hanging folders from the supply cabinet, and didn't hear the door to our office suite open. The noise of someone approaching startled me. I gasped involuntarily, even though I recognized my visitor as soon as he rounded the corner. "Oh my gosh, you SCARED me!" I chided, grinning.

It was the company's in-house courier, John, with a package under his arm. He laughed at my intake of breath and greeted me, "The cat must be away, since the mice are at play, huh?" he commented, motioning toward the music blasting from the vicinity of my desk. My heart still pounded from the sudden shock, as I laughed with him. His friendly demeanor always served to put me at ease, and that day was no different. We continued to banter as we left the break room.

"Yes, no bosses here today," I walked to my desk and turned down the volume on the local rock station. "Just me, but look at this mess! How can you say I'm playing?" I kidded him, gesturing toward the pile of folders on my desk. "They keep me plenty busy, you know!" I admonished.

John sat the box he held on the floor beside my desk and kidded me some more, "Oh yea, I know how they work you to death around here." He rolled his blue eyes exaggeratedly, then winked at me. "Poor Shannon never gets a moment's rest, not even when she's sitting around surfing the net, right?"

I blushed, remembering the time he'd walked in and caught me playing mah jong on my PC, which of course was a big no-no on company time. I held my finger to my lips in a shushing manner and giggled, embarrassed to have him remind me.

"Oh, don't worry, I'd never rat you out, girl. People do much worse than that when they think nobody's looking," he chuckled, secretively. "I could tell you stories that would curl your toes," he intimated, playfully touching my shoulder.

Feeling suddenly nervous standing so close to him, I retreated behind my desk and sank into my chair, thinking he would take his cue and leave. Instead he strode to the chair on the far side of my desk and made himself at home. He smirked at me and crossed his legs, looking relaxed, as if he was planning to stay a while.

Puzzled over his decision to linger, I glanced toward the package he'd brought. "Is this the new stationary I ordered last week?" I asked, trying to make small talk. I was unused to this intimate little setting. John had never hung around when delivering things, before. Then again, he'd never dropped anything off when I was alone in the office.

We'd always been friendly, in a casual kind of way, exchanging pleasantries about the weather during his brief visits to deliver or pick up packages to and from our office. It would have been impossible for me not to have noticed his muscular build and warm smile – and that adorable curly brown hair, but since dating fellow employees was not permitted, I'd never really allowed myself to pursue those thoughts very far, or very often. Sure, I had checked out his butt a time or two, but that was pretty much the extent of it. Didn't everyone drool over hunky delivery guys occasionally?

He was staring at me across my desk in a way that indicated he had something on his mind other than stationary, however. I shifted in my chair and played with my pen, waiting for him to say something. He continued to sit, gazing at me and smiling, making me ever more self-conscious. The phone rang, startling me for the second time that afternoon, and I nearly dropped the receiver in my haste to answer it.

I felt John watching me as I spoke to the headhunter on the line. Very aware of his attention, I stumbled over my words a couple times – something completely unlike me. I normally dealt with such calls several times a day, and had a pat speech I could recite in my sleep, but somehow that day I couldn't get my thoughts straight. I quickly ended the call before I made a fool of myself in my nervousness. My cheeks were burning as I became more flustered over John's tenacious study of me.

"You're really sexy when you blush like that, you know?" he flattered me. Much I tried not to, I giggled dorkily. "And even hotter when you act like you don't know it." His eyes bored holes into me, as I looked anywhere but at him. From my reaction, you'd have thought I'd never been hit on before.

I did my best to act nonchalant. "Why John, I never knew you felt that way," I joked, fidgeting under his stare, but doing my best to flutter my lashes at him. "You'd be in trouble if anyone heard you say that, you know," I chided him, hoping to end this painfully embarrassing situation. Instead, it spurred him on.

He stood, and leaned on the corner of my desk with his much admired ass. "Oh, come on. I think we both know there's something going on here. At least...I'd like for there to be. I'm not afraid to be the one to get it out in the open." He casually began to slide various things covering my desk to one side, enabling him to move in closer. "Unless you're saying you find me admiring you a bad thing...you're not saying that, are you?" He reached his hand across the desk to pluck the pen from my hands, running his finger over mine as he did so.

I was speechless at this alarming turn of events. I had never before imagined that John thought of me in this context. Apparently, I had been oblivious to the attraction. I frantically searched my mind for something suitable to say to discourage him, as he continued to smirk at me from his perch on the edge of my desk. I wanted to return the sentiment, but I hesitated, since it could affect my job.

"Don't think about it too much...you'll worry yourself to death," he laughed, seeing me contemplate. He reached for my hand and pulled gently. I allowed him to pull me up so that I was standing eye to eye with him, the desk separating us. He leaned closer, his hand grazing my cheek. "Haven't you ever thought about doing something like this? Locking up the office, and having a nooner right here on your desk?" Something wicked flashed in his eyes.

I laughed at his nerve, knowing I had indeed thought about that very thing a time or two. "That's the kind of thing people fantasize about, but never do," I attempted once more to deter him, knowing I was fighting a losing battle. I could already feel myself becoming aroused by his suggestion, not to mention his overwhelmingly close proximity. Ripples of excitement fluttered in my stomach, and I felt my nipples harden against the silk of my bra. His broad shoulders leaned closer to me, the slight scent of his cologne intoxicating me. His fingers caught my chin as he swooped in to capture my lips with his.

All thoughts of decency and workplace etiquette left my mind as he kissed me. Winding his fingers in my hair, our mouths melded and our tongues began to flick each other teasingly. My thighs pressed against the edge of my desk as I became absorbed in the embrace. I heard my pencil cup spill to the floor as he scooted farther up onto my desk, pulling me closer.

Reason got the better of me after half a minute or so. "John," I gasped for air, breaking the reverie. "This is insane! We'll both get fired!" I stepped back and ran my hands over my clothes, absently trying to smooth them, as if straightening my outward appearance would somehow help soothe the inner turmoil I was feeling. Passion coursed through me, though I tried my best to suppress it.

He stood, walked towards the door, and for a brief and disappointing moment I thought he was going to leave. Instead, he lowered the blinds on the glass entrance door, and turned the deadbolt. I opened my mouth to argue, but those blue eyes caught mine and the words never made it past my lips.

He purposefully strode across the room and wrapped his brawny, delivery-guy arms around me. My breath caught in my throat as he grasped me and bent to kiss me again. My hands roamed over his expansive back, feeling his masculine strength. He stood four or five inches taller than I, which made me feel feminine and a bit helpless, in a way I thoroughly enjoyed. The fact that I'd been single for many long months made me all the more eager for him to ravish me.

While our tongues twisted tantalizingly, he moved his large, rough hands over my yielding body. He squeezed my shoulders, ran his fingers down my neck and over my collarbone before rubbing slowly down my back, to wrap his hands around my waist. I pressed myself against him, loving the feel of his well-built chest crushing my breasts. His hands gripped my hips and he pulled me more tightly against him, as the kiss deepened. I felt him lifting my skirt, as we turned, maneuvering so I could sit upon my desk.

He hiked my skirt up around my hips, and moved so he stood between my legs. I tilted my head back to continue kissing him – god, how that man could kiss. His hands worked at the buttons on my blouse while he made love to my mouth with his tongue. Instinctively, I reached for his belt and began to unfasten it, then his trousers. Through the fabric, I could feel his erection growing with each passing second. My blouse slipped off my shoulders and my bra soon followed, as I sought to free him from his pants. I pushed his shirt up, and ran my fingers over his hard belly, through the smattering of coarse hair which covered his abdomen. Prolonging the moment, I traced my fingertips over his stomach and the area all around his erection, teasing him. I felt his hips press forward, indicating his desire.

As his hands began to move over my breasts, I finally broke the kiss so I could use my mouth elsewhere. I abruptly grasped his hard cock at the base, and guided it to my lips. Softly, I licked the head, caressing it with my tongue, lapping at the precum which slowly leaked out. He groaned softly and arched his back, wrapping my long, auburn hair around his hands. I opened wide to accept him, and he slowly began to fuck my mouth. I eased his pants down and reached between his sinewy thighs to cup his heavy balls in my hands. Gently, I squeezed and massaged them, savoring his musky, male scent. I felt myself getting wet as I thought about what he'd feel like inside me.

He began to move more quickly and less gently in and out of my mouth, as he became more aroused. Worried he'd blow his wad too quickly, I tried to pull back and ask him to slow down, but he wasn't having any of it. His grip on my hair tightened, and he began to fuck my mouth in earnest. I tried to open as wide as I could and relax while he sated his need. Soon, I felt strings of saliva run from the corners of my mouth and dribble onto my chest.

After a minute or two, my jaw began to ache as he pummeled my mouth and humiliation began to creep over me due to the steady stream of slobber dripping onto my naked breasts. I tried to look up and him and began to whimper softly, hoping he would take pity and stop. He looked into my eyes and continued to thrust. He hit the back of my throat a couple times and I gagged a little when he did. I had never been able to deep throat, and that time was no different.

It seemed an eternity before he pulled himself from my mouth and with no warning came on my face. Jizz splashed in one of my eyes and burned so badly my eye began to water. He rubbed his semen all over my face with his still hard dick, adding to my embarrassment. I panted lightly, trying to catch my breath. He rubbed my head and murmured some sort of approving noise. I guess he was satisfied with my oral abilities, despite my shortcomings. I really didn't care – all I could think of was washing my face. He had different plans, however.

He directed me to scoot my bottom farther back on the desk and raised each foot so my heels rested on the edge. He then knelt between my legs and began to rub his hands up my thighs. He moved slowly, but purposefully, and succeeded in making me eagerly anticipate his touch. My panties felt like they were soaking wet, and the cool air intensified the feeling. He trailed his fingers along the edge of the elastic, and I pushed toward his fingers, wishing he would delve underneath. Just when I thought he was about to go the next step, he pulled back and returned to rubbing my legs.

My face and chest began to dry, which felt uncomfortable and itchy. I imagined how I looked and embarrassment sprang anew. I felt his fingers hook the edge of my panties and begin to pull them off, and forgot about my sordid looking appearance. I lifted my hips to assist his intent.

As he removed my panties, he gently blew a little burst of breath across my soaked, fevered pussy. I shivered and begged him to touch me. Ignoring my pleas, he simply blew again, and cruelly squeezed the muscles of my inner thighs. Time after time, he grazed my tormented flesh with his fingers, refusing to touch my sex directly, instead pulling me open with his fingers on my outer lips, and blowing cool air again and again. My clit was standing erect, painfully engorged. I begged openly for him to touch my pussy, conscious of every pleading, coarse word which spilled from my lips. Never before had I said the things I said to him. Unable to take it any longer, I grabbed his hair in both my hands and pulled his face into me.

His tongue began to work furiously at my clit, and he entered me brutally with two fingers. I pulled at his hair and bit my lip to keep from screaming. Almost instantly, a shuddering orgasm raged through me. I felt wetness gush from me. John never missed a beat, and he continued to use his mouth and fingers on my pussy until I came a second time mere minutes later.

Abruptly he stood, and I saw he was again erect.

Urgently, he pulled me to my feet and spun me so that I faced away from him. Without needing direction, I bent over the desk, placing my feet in a wide stance and bracing myself on my elbows. My skirt was still bunched about my waist. He stepped closer, and entered me fully with one swift thrust. My head bobbed forward and my knees weakened. I couldn't help but moan aloud. He reached and turned the radio back up just a tad.

Momentarily, we were motionless. Very slowly, he shifted until he was even deeper inside me. The sensation of being filled with his fat cock drove me wild. His hips pressed sharply into my ass and the backs of my thighs. I wiggled up and down, dying for him to give it to me.

"Is this what you want?" he growled, as he began even, long strokes. "You need me to fuck that little pussy, don't you?" Grasping my hair with his right hand, he held my head taught, driving it home with a little more force each time he slid in me. "Tell me how badly you want me to keep fucking you, goddamn it!" Fierce little tugs on my hair punctuated his statement. I whimpered, not wanting to speak, simply enjoying being so harshly fucked, and he yanked harder, bringing me back to the moment. "Say it unless you want me to stop, Shannon," he ordered.

"Please, don't stop fucking me," I stammered, while my mind raced over the phrases I knew he wanted to hear. "I love the way you feel in my pussy. I need your cock, need you to fuck me," I grunted as I pressed back to meet him. He grunted in return and we moved into a frantic, desperate rhythm.

He released my hair and placed both his hands on my hips at my waist, guiding our pace and slamming into me harder. I bit the back of my arm to keep from squealing as I so badly wanted to. I felt the pulsing throb of an orgasm in my pelvis, and squeezed hard as I prepared to cum.

My body started to tremble, then jerk as it hit me, and I could only ride the wave. He pounded on through it, until I was done and then slowed slightly, lengthening his stroke, pulling completely out of me before pushing sensuously back in. I had not yet recovered from my climax, and was absolutely relaxed though my head was spinning.

He rubbed his fingers around his cock and through the dripping wetness between my legs. I didn't resist or tense up when, on an in-stroke, he slid a finger into my ass. I started to bear down with his thrusting, to make the entry easier. Soon, a second finger joined the first. The combined stimulation propelled me toward yet another high.

He deftly slid his shaft out of my pussy and, removing his fingers, pressed the head of his dick against my primed backdoor. My breath came in short gasps as I willed myself to relax so I could take him in. He leaned over me, in order to rub my clit while he slowly slid further into my ass. I felt him dribble spit onto me, to further lubricate things. Soon, he was fucking me quickly, with shallow strokes, and I felt that impending orgasm looming again. Tingles of adrenaline ran up my spine as my anus began to spasm rhythmically as I came. I lost the ability to hold myself up any longer and my body fell to the desk. He leaned down to lay on top of me, urgently pushing still, putting his hands on my shoulders for leverage.

I felt his hot cum as he squirted in my ass. He continued to thrust and I felt it gushing out and smearing on the both of us. Finally, he was still, his weight almost unbearable on top of me as I struggled to breathe. I wiggled and he chuckled, and rolled off me.

He stood, and lifted me to hold me in his arms. I felt like a rag doll and was thankful for his brute strength. I wrapped my arms around his neck and rested my head on his shoulder. He scooped up my legs and headed for the bathroom. I laughed, knowing his pants were around his ankles. Thank god he'd closed the blind.