tagErotic CouplingsPackages Plus

Packages Plus

byrobinkhinke©

There are no underage characters in this story. All characters portrayed are 18-years-old or older.



I knew as soon as I walked in to the United Shipping Service store it was going to take longer than the quick stop I was hoping for, making my already strained schedule that much more tight, like the growing knot in my stomach. The customer in front of me, an elderly woman with a worried look on her face, was pacing small circles impatiently, muttering now and again at the attendant, a new girl I'd never seen before, being a regular at this shop. After only a quick glance my way that barely acknowledged I'd entered, she looked back to a giant mess in front of her, and stood silently on the phone, enduring. This position behind the counter was usually occupied by the owner, a slick and bejeweled Samoan of enormous stature and equally large, almost mawkish exuberance who had a strong penchant for both inexpensive aftershave and enthusiastic gum chewing, a gregarious sensory overload from which today I was happy and relived to be spared given my deteriorating mood. In his usual place, behind a pile of packaging materials pulled from the open box of whatever aborted mailing attempt the woman had brought in, stood this waifish young girl who couldn't possibly be over twenty, staring blankly into space with the phone pressed to her ear. Her two-tone burgundy/blond hair, done up in a quick knot held in place with a pencil, and teal hipster glasses cast a curiously rebellious contrast to her brown corporate polo. I caught myself staring at her, and shifted my eyes up, noticing the clock on the wall. I had to be back for an eleven o'clock meeting, which gave me only forty five minutes to get everything I needed done. But this poor rangy neophyte had such a little-girl-lost look about her that I suddenly sensed I was about to reprioritize my morning.

With every agitated comment from her increasingly anxious customer about confusing procedures and forgotten reading glasses, the young woman cooed a short and reassuring apology across the phone as she continued to hold. I took my tiny parcel and moved to the far side of the shop, waiting silently while attempting to avoid eye contact with the entire situation, while at the same time using this less conspicuous vantage point to further appraise the girl's form.

From my oblique angle she wasn't as skinny as I'd initially thought, and there were some definite curves lurking beneath her unflattering top and horrid khaki pants. The slight rise of her chest hinted at a playful pair of Bs, and I imagined a shapeless, plain bra, possibly only worn as store policy, halfheartedly supporting girls that would otherwise better represent themselves on their own. Were they pert and round, fully formed but compact? Or were they still budding, softly and slowly aspiring to fuller greatness. I caught myself licking my lips, imagining her puffy nipple striving to grow stiff in the gentle clasp of my mouth, my hands around the subtle inward curve of her lean waist. I could tell from the inconsiderate drape of her formless slacks that even though this curve was slight, it arced outwards again beneath her low beltline to form tiny taut buttocks, modestly poised behind pointed hip bones and thighs that surely didn't meet as she stood her post.

Her face was rather angular, made more so by the situation, but was still delicate and demure despite her youthful air of defiance. Her eyes, small without being beady, were lit with a fire that seemed deeper than her current temperament. They shone through the glasses that sat a top a darling button of a nose, above thin lips that were pressed tight together. Her otherwise pale cheeks, high and drawn, held an intriguing blush. She was all crossed up at the moment, but I could see radiance and beauty in her, and was just dying to see her smile. She gave me a darting sidelong glance and I realized again I'd been caught staring, and she turned slightly away, raising the phone a little higher as a shield against my intrusive scrutiny and the elderly woman's incessant patter until finally, unable to reach a human on the other end, the girl left a brief message and hung up. She then deftly and courteously convinced the woman that all would be taken care of from this point forward, and that she was free to go. When the door chimed the woman's exit, I looked behind the counter and caught her briefly closing her eyes in relief, no doubt completing a quick count to ten, and I couldn't help but cheer for my little mod heroine on what had every indication of being her first day on the job.

"Not always the easiest place to work, huh?" I said, doing my best to side with her without sounding snarky." She smiled her pretty brown eyes at me before assessing my package and coolly nodding to the scale.

"You can just put that there, I'll take care of this in a sec," gathering up the small mountain of crushed paper surrounding the weigh station to make room. The skillful tact and confidence she'd displayed only moments ago was replaced by an odd shyness I wouldn't have expected as she shifted the pile to the back counter and returned her focus to the computer screen next to the scale. She was either being the consummate professional, or I had already earned her bored disdain.

"Where's Aku?" I asked in reference to the unusual absence of the owner, letting her know I was familiar with the shop, and if she cared to put it together, also that she was new to the job.

"He's out for the morning," she said almost flatly, but I noticed her glance up from the monitor to the clock, and ever so briefly to me, up and down in one quick scan. Was I perturbing her with idle chat, I wondered? Better find out.

"I bet this job gets a bit tedious now and again, right. How long've you been here?"

"You mean today, or in general?" still not looking me in the eye, but flashing the barest hint of a smile from the corner of her mouth at her wry little joke. I'd been watching her the entire time since handing over my package, and was discerning a truly charming set of features hidden behind the agitation on her face, as well as beneath her uninspired wardrobe, and I cheered internally once again for her, rooting her on as she won me over in spite of her defenses.

"I mean I'm in here a fair amount and I haven't seen you before. But you seem to know the job fairly well, so I'm guessing you're not exactly new." She'd already printed the label and was smoothing it onto the box over the address I'd written. "I'll take a guess you've been here, what, two weeks, and maybe I've just missed your shift until now?"

"That's a good guess." She was freely smiling, and yes it was every bit as adorable as I'd hoped, even as she glanced shyly away whenever our eyes met. She idly continued to straighten up the previous mess, putting a pair of scissors away and shifting various items on the desk back to their proper places. It occurred to me she might be nervous, not terse, and something kicked in, inspiring more than my tacit fan club. Strangely, and immediately, I'd become entirely aroused by her. And I was sure there was some part of my being that had gotten that cue from her.

"So am I right, that it gets a little dull?" I pulled out my card and slid it across the counter toward her. She picked it up and looked at it carefully, squinting as she took a long moment to read the name before processing the fee and passing it back along with the receipt and a pen.

"Yep, just the same thing mostly, customer after customer, box after box." Now that she'd relaxed a bit into conversation, I was trying to read if her pulse was as racy as mine had become. That intriguing blush from earlier hadn't departed with the unhappy woman. "You just hope they're gonna be nice and easy when they walk in." I signed the paper but kept it under my hand.

"Well hey, guess what. I'm both." I raised my hand, but didn't pass slip back, making her reach across for it. She placed it neatly in the drawer then shut it with a decisive clang, turning to face me squarely again, finally able to hold eye contact. I was sure of it now, she was just as aroused as I was, every last lanky muscle in her feisty little body. It was time to go for it. "So what do you do for fun then? In general I mean."

"And today," I added after a pause as an invitation.

She stared at me for a long moment. How did those think lips suddenly come to seem so moist and full? She put both hands on the counter, leaning on them and twisting her shoulders coyly. "In general I like to do what most people like to do," she said, "but today I think I'd like to do something a little more fun."

"So when do you go on break?" Any pretense of entendre was gone at this point, so why linger on the subject. She swayed back from her perch and reached into the drawer beneath the counter, pulling out a little "Back In X Minutes" card with a handy clock on it to hang on the door. "Anytime I want," she smiled. "Let's take one now!"

She set the hands to thirty minutes hence and walked around the counter to the door, locking it and slipping the sign into its sleeve. It occurred to me that I'd always been aggravated by that sign in the past whenever I'd encountered it. Ah, sweet irony. I watched her lithe frame sway back towards me, letting her take my hand and guide me to the back of the store, to the little room with a break table, where immediately our lips locked, and our hands fumbling with each others clothes, almost in a panic, searching for skin.

"Holy Christ, you're attractive," she panted as she shook her head to let her hair tumbled down, sending the pencil flying across the room. "I thought I was gonna fall over when you walked in. You have such a fucking hot body! Oh my God, feel how wet I am!!" We each had a hand in each others pants, slippery grips seeking out sweet spots of pleasure. My other hand released her belt and reached in to firmly grasping her tiny, round bottom, cupping it easily beneath her plain panties as her khakis fell. She was holding herself up with her free hand behind her on the table, fighting a last little fight to stay upright as I pressed against her with my body, pushing her back.

As she lay back, I dropped to my knees, grasping her cotton panties on the way down with my thumbs, easily pulling them to her ankles where they remained, bunched up with her pants. She held her thin but surprisingly shapely legs wide apart for me, obviously agitated at not being able to free her feet, but unable to protest with my face now buried up against her soft, furry bush. Her fuzz tickled my nose almost to the point of distraction, but in the moment I didn't care. I thought briefly about how much fun it would be to give her a little hair cut with the same scissors that she'd put away with such a show, giving her a lasting reminder of what we were about to do. Instead, I just pressed my palms to the inside of her thighs and spread them with maybe a bit too much assertion, forcing her bound feet to rise off the floor.

She let out a small squeak of surprise, not expecting me to be as forceful as I was. I'm used to people making this mistake with me; it only spurs me on. I gave her a stern look in the eye as she gazed down at me over her navel, and said, "Sweetie, I'm going to absolutely devour you for the next little while. I think it would be best if you just stay put and allow me my indulgence."

She tasted like sweet, honeyed girl candy, with a fresh, slippery savoriness that only hinted at her deeper musk. Her skin still held the soapy scent of her morning shower, and I found myself wondering if she'd already masturbated today. I imagined her lying on her little twin bed, covers kicked aside as her hand slid beneath loose cotton shorts, coaxing open the very lips my tongue was now ambling about – up and down, inside and out, from her tippy top to her very, very bottom – in such a way that even as she tried to prop herself up to watch, her head kept falling back with the exquisite torture of it, I kept her deliriously distant from her orgasm, sensing that hers was, in fact, not an easy one to reach. All the more reason to take my time with her crescendo, to fully appreciate her many nuanced charms.

So as she delightfully rose, I cruelly let her fall, but throughout this dance I carefully brought my hands inward from their captive hold. My thumbs gradually found the taught crevice of her ass, and each poked and prodded its way to the nearest happy opening; one slick from within, the other from without as her wetness seeped downward and began to shine on the laminate tabletop. With these little penetrations came new squeals of genuine delight-- an "Ooh!" and an "Ahhh" that were tell tale confessions of new discoveries, and my lust for her increased tenfold knowing that I was giving her something she probably hadn't even imagined.

She opened herself up to me now, wider than I had managed with my own hands, and let me in everywhere I sought admittance. I eased my thumb into her tiny tight sphincter, letting it give in and accept me, only to persistently clench in mock protest. And into her more wiling treasure I pressed two fingers, bending them back toward me in a come-hither motion, slow, deliberate pressure against the soft yield of her secluded spongy flesh. My mouth on her clit, my fingers massaging her g-spot, and my thumb in her snug naughty pucker, I gradually and relentlessly brought her to a series of what for all the world sounded like mind-altering orgasms. Her hands now flat on the table, her fingers spread as if clinging to hold on for fear of falling upwards, her gaze glassy and transfixed upon ceiling tiles she never, ever would have otherwise considered.

I sat back on my heels, feeling her wetness like a cool breeze on my slick chin, admiring my handiwork. She was nearly paralyzed as her feet slowly descended to the floor, her quivering legs gradually coming together like petals slowly drawing in at the days end, wanton and supine. I rose and leaned over the table to kiss her, almost as if to bring her back to life. Her eyes opened and beamed and she lifted her head to return the kiss, licking her lips.

"I have to go now," I whispered, returning her beatific smile. She only nodded and blinked. "You need to put your pants on and get up, sweetie." Again, just a nod. I looked at my watch and realized I couldn't delay. "Please get up, I'm going now. You are wonderful."

I quickly reassembled myself and turned to make my way to the entrance. As I unlocked it, I looked back to see her stumbling from the back room, pulling up her zipper. She just leaned against the doorway and smiled. "I'll be sure to come again soon," I said.

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byrobinkhinke© 3 comments/ 22581 views/ 14 favorites
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by Anonymous10/08/18

Ooh, I liked it! The vagueness of his age, other than obviously older, and, ahem, more experienced! I'll have to reread their exchange, his comments seemed odd. Not even remotely a shy girl though! Itmore...

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